The Way Back
by JinxedSydney
Summary: Arya is returning to Winterfell and her path lies squarely in Gendry's own path. She is angry and he is, well, a stupid bull. Set in the future but keeping the characters in canon.
1. Chapter 1

Had he been any closer to her, she may have broken all concentration and lost her borrowed face. He grasped her by the shoulders to remain standing after literally being thrown against each other on the deck of the ship. She realized that her own hands had wrapped around his waist as the ship's deck tilted again. "We should get below, septa," he offered. She let the breath she was holding go.

Arya allowed herself to be guided to her quarters below deck. _A septa would fear for her safety_, she reminded herself. "Thank you, Ser," she offered when he had delivered her to her doorway.

"I am no Ser," he said with a nudge of anger in his voice.

_That's right. You're a stupid bull that followed stupid men and look where it got you._ He had turned and walked to the ladder that led downwards to the men's general quarters. _I was your family._ When the door was closed safely behind her, Arya leaned against it, as if to close it further. By the old gods and new, how had they actually been put on the same ship to Westeros? Now, 3 days at sea, she was stuck with him.

The next day, the sea had calmed and Arya found herself on the deck, facing the direction of their destination. Were Jon and Sansa still alive? What news did arrive on Braavos was always embellished or missing bits, but Arya savored anything and everything from her homeland. She longed to return to Winterfell, even to walk among the ashes and creep into the tombs far below. The desire to place herself at her father's feet again had steadily gained momentum until she found herself stepping onto a ship to speed her fate. _I am no one. I am Winter. I am the wolf. I am Arry, Weasel, Nan, Salty, Cat and Beth. I am no one. I am Arya Stark._

Her face, the middle aged septa, was easy to wear. It reminded her of home. The prayer of a septa was replaced by her own: _Ilyn, Meryn, Cersei, Dunsen, Raff. Valar Moghulis._ A mantra of death. An invocation of redemption. A septa was an unassuming life to take. The story of escorting a youth to Braavos and returning upon her death was easy to adopt. It was, in fact, her own, leaving Cat and Beth behind on the docks of Braavos to die. A slight smile played on the septa's lips knowing that she would kiss the weirwood of her home soon. _Blessed wind, speed me home._

His voice reached Arya's ears and she felt her façade waver. She was angry at herself. He had no power over her. No one did. She was overcome with the feeling to flee and practically ran to her quarters. _Stupid bull._ One shaky breath proceeded another until she felt tears on her own cheeks. _I am no one. I am no one. I am not Arry. I am no one._ But even her own mind could not keep the loneliness at bay or the sting of betrayal from burning her heart. Her thoughts seemed jumbled until she found Needle and held it. Everything centered and the tip of Needle bit through her left palm. _Valar Moghulis._ A thin stream of blood snaked down the septa's sleeve as her borrowed face returned. This dance was no different than any other, albeit the stakes were her life. Although she had no fear of dying, she did not want to die because of that….man.

Arya wished that she had not thought of him as a man. She wished that when he had her by the shoulders that she had not looked at his face and seen how he had changed. The eyes of the ship's cat had filled her mind with glimpses of him from the men's quarters. She had not even intended to slip, but found herself gazing through feline eyes as she pondered as to where he was inside the ship. Her dreams did nothing to help. The septa took to staying in her quarters except for early dawn and late at night.

_Curse him for becoming a man,_ she thought late one evening, as she leaned against the railing. _Does he still work at a forge? How did he get to Braavos? Why do I care? He didn't choose me. _She could let her mind rage at itself in the dark, as the bow cut into the sea. But even the noise of the ship could not mask the heavy steps that she suddenly prayed were not coming closer.

"Are you alright, septa?" A deeper voice than she remembered.

_Valar Moghulis._ She kept her back to him and cleared her throat. "Yes, thank you." _Go away, stupid. I am no one._

"It's just that you seemed pretty shaken up." He stepped next to her on the rail and grasped the rail next to her. His hands were calloused and dirty. Bigger than she remembered. "If anyone has bothered you, I can let the Captain know." _We could be family! _ She could tell that he was facing her. "Some of the men were being rude and I am sorry for it."

"You stupid bull!" Arya froze. Her own voice had betrayed her. _No, no, no, no!_

"What did you say?" He had moved so close to her ear that she felt the rumble in his voice through her hood.

Cementing her borrowed face in place, Arya turned her false face to Gendry. "I believe you heard exactly what I said. "

"Gods. Oh gods," he barely squeaked out.

"Not a god and you're still stupid."

"Arya." At that moment, the only sound that would've been sweeter to her ears world have been her father's voice calling her name. "Arya?" this time, a question as he searched her eyes. _He's only looking at my eyes._ She fought for control over the septa's features and nearly lost it when his big hand touched her cheek.

Arya stepped back and Gendry advanced towards her. "Milady." He had no time to react to the tip of Needle coming from the folds of her robe to push the bottom of his chin.

Her eyes stormed. "Do not call me that." Keeping the tip of Needle in the soft skin of his shaved chin, Arya leaned in closer. "You have no right to call me that. I was your family." There was no mistaking the fury in her voice. As quickly as Needle had appeared, she turned and disappeared below deck, leaving Gendry in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Continuing this story from Arya's POV. Two reasons: First, I'm not a male and therefore cannot make assumptions on their thoughts. Secondly, Gendry's POV hasn't been presented in the books, so I won't tread there either.**

Shed of clothing, down to just her small clothes, Arya held Needle in her right hand and a small dagger in her left. Her eyes were sealed shut and her own face had sweat on the skin. She practiced a dance of swords, a training lesson from Syrio that had been embellished by experience. It filled her mind with movement and training instead of Gendry. The sound of Needle slicing through the air brought her hands the steadiness she sought. Ducking, advancing and carving the invisible opponent triggered a cadence, both body and mind, of solace. All that she felt was the movement.

Finally, exhaustion took over. She stood very still, with Needle resting in the air and the dagger in her left palm. She focused on her breathing. _Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis._ She tip toed to the bed and laid Needle down. Something, some noise caught her attention just outside of her bolted door. Within her next breath, the dagger was buried through the wooden door.

"I am sorry." She could barely hear him. She realized that he hadn't even moved when she had thrown the dagger. She held her breath and heard no movement. "Please, Arya." She had moved onto her knees to place her ear against the wood. His left hand crept under the door and Arya fell backwards to avoid it. There was some blood, not much, on his fingertips.

Arya could not stop herself from crawling forward towards his fingers. As if her body was acting on instinct, she bowed her forehead to touch the back of his hand. Slowly, Gendry turned his hand over so that she rested on his fingertips. They stroked her skin and explored her hair.

"You left me," she choked out. "I had no one. I had nothing. I only had you." His fingers stilled. "I hate you." She sat up and away from his hand, which pulled back under the door. With no grace, he stood up and his footsteps retreated to the ladder.

She checked the bolt on the door and withdrew to her bed. Dreams brought her to dancing lessons with Syrio as her father watched. She was fully grown and in an almost full on battle with Syrio when the Lannister guards arrived. Arya turned and her father's headless body lay on the ground. The guard grabbed her shoulders as she turned to run. Gendry held fast onto her shoulders and whispered, "I'm sorry, Arry."

"No!" Arya woke up jammed into the corner of her bed and panting. She found herself looking for Gendry's hand under her door. Needle was in her right hand and her bedding had been cut into shreds. She slowly and silently made her way to the bladder of water and took a long drink. Another futile glance at the doorway and Arya was disgusted with herself again. She closed her eyes. _. Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. I am no one. I am no one._

It had been another day before the septa emerged from her quarters. The captain had inquired after her and she excused herself for having a weak stomach. He pressed a bottle of Arbor gold wine into her hands and promised that it would help. She thanked his gracious nature and promised to be at the next meal. She made her way to the rail and caught her breath at the sight of land. Her land. She had no idea what part of Westeros dotted the horizon and she didn't care at the moment. It was close. She was finding her way back.

"The Fingers, Milady." Gone was her joy at the sound of his voice. "We will head to The Bite and onto White Harbor." _Go away, stupid bull. I don't want you. I don't need you. I am no one._

"Fascinating," Arya answered with venom. She tensed as he stepped closer. He blocked the view of the rail from anyone behind them and quickly grabbed her by the wrist. "If I were you," she warned, "I would let go now."

"You are not me, Arry. You are Weasel." She turned and looked at his face with her septa's. _Such blue eyes. I hate you. Please don't leave me again._ His grip loosened and slid to hold her hand. Soft as a leaf on a stream, his calloused hand covered hers. "I…" He looked towards the land and his eyes filled with tears. "I can't believe I finally found you." He gently squeezed her hand and walked away.

Arya pulled her hand back into the other, as if in prayer. She had to focus on her breathing because the ship suddenly felt like it was pitching back and forth. The Captain happened to be walking by and caught sight of his septa listing sideways. "Good septa, let us get you to your quarters with some Arbor Gold in your belly to help your pains."


	3. Chapter 3

**A clarification for those who need it: Yes, Arya can change her face. Yes, she is wearing a middle aged septa's face. Yes, she can go back and forth between her own and the septa.**

Heavy. That is how she felt; entirely heavy. Laying on the bed in her quarters, Arya felt like a rock; the kind that she and Jon used to heave into the water to see how many ripples they could count. She understood now what it felt like to sink beneath the waves and plummet to the bottom. That day, at that moment, she had no fight and didn't care. She had returned to her own face, wrapped in the septa's robes in a heap on the bed. _I am no one. I am no one. I am no one._ Her eyes flicked open and landed on the skin of Arbor Gold that was opened next to a full cup that the Captain had obligingly left. _I am no one. I am no one. I am no one._

The first cup went down quickly. It was much better than the Dornish wine that was served at meals. Arya refilled the cup and sat on the edge of the bed again. _Why do I keep looking for his hand under the door? I am no one. Stupid bull. I hate you._ She finished the cup in two long draws. Her head was a little dizzy as she filled the cup a third time. _Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. It took both hands to steady the skin and fill the cup again. She pulled off the septa's hood while downing the wine. The fifth cup led to the robes being deposited onto the floor and Needle bouncing in her right hand. Oh, I can't believe I found you. Look at my blue eyes. You wouldn't be my family. You'd be m'lady. Stupid, stupid bull. I hate you. The empty cup gave way to the skin tipped up until the last drop passed her lips. _

_ With the skin firmly in her left hand and Needle in her right, she suddenly thought the room was wholly too small. The septa's robes and hood were too ugly. Moreover, the Arbor Gold was empty. "Stuuupid bullllll," she slurred loudly to the bed. "I was your family. I HATE you." The skin smashed against the wall above the bed. _

_ "You've very drunk." He said it calmly and quietly. _

_ "You're very stupid. How did YOU get in here?" She spun and brought Needle around in a drunken arc. She couldn't seem to make Needle connect with his head or arm or any part of his body. _

_ "Stop before you stab me." She couldn't tell if he was dodging her jabs or if the ship was swaying. _

_ "I want to stab you. " _

_ She thrust Needle towards his heart. He had to understand the pain she had in her own. She tripped on the septa's underskirt and launched forward faster than she had intended to. He had stepped to the side and somehow folded her arm overhead and across her own chest as he was behind her. As she gained her woozy footing, she realized that he had both of her wrists, each arm crossed and pinned at her waist. Arya tried to plant the back of her head into his face and only thumped against his chest. "I swear, I will scream Gendry. .Go." The last words were spit through her teeth. _

_ "Quit trying to stab me, m'lady." _

_ She drew in a deep breath, but the wine had dulled her reactions. He had shifted so that he wrapped both of her arms in one of his and threw his free hand over her mouth as she launched into a scream. Arya thrashed about, trying to free herself. Let me go you stupid man! You stupid bull! She was suddenly tired and relaxed. Gendry loosened his hand from her mouth but kept it hovering near her lips. "Why did you leave me?" she suddenly sobbed and let her head drop forward, not intentionally saying it out loud. Everything felt wrong and fuzzy. Her head rocked back and rested on his chest and her eyes closed so that she didn't have to look at those blue eyes as her tears started back up. "I was your family. I was. You could have been my family. Even after Hot Pie left." _

_ Gradually, Gendry had walked her to the bed while holding her arms from behind her. She dropped Needle and stood still while he swept back the blanket from the bed. He guided her to sit on the edge and knelt to pull off the septa's boots. Arya threaded her fingers into his dark hair. "You're much bigger than you used to be, you know?" She had stopped crying and was giggling. "Finally got yourself a proper beard I'd guess. You should grow it out. Because I'm sure that it would look good. A beard. It would." He had finished removing the boots and picked up her legs through the skirt to swing them into the bed. "I'd like it better if I knew that you wouldn't leave again, Gendry." Nothing she said to her brain was working. She couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth any more than she could stop her hand from touching his cheek. "You shouldn't leave me. I will probably kill someone if you do. I'll borrow a different face and kill someone. Valar Morghulis. I have. Killed people. It's easy. So please don't make me kill someone." Gendry had pulled a blanket over her. "I'm very tired and dizzy. Is the ship rocking?" He chuckled. "Shut up, you stupid bull. Just lay down and I won't have to kill anyone." He searched her face again. "Just lay down and go to sleep. I won't stab you with the pointy end." _

_ Gendry lay down next to her, on top of the blanket, with his boots on. He turned his entire body towards Arya and examined her face. "This is your face?" he asked quietly. He has a beard growing. I see it. "Your real face?"_

_ "Of course it's my real face, stupid. You are different than I remember. You're bigger."_

_ "You already said that. " Her gray eyes lit with anger. "But you are different too, Arry."_

_ "Don't call me that."_

_ "M'lady." Then he laughed a low and almost growling laugh. _

_ For a moment, the rage surfaced and then gave way to the wine induced sorrow. "Why won't you tell me why you left me?" Blue eyes. Blue like the sky on a frozen winter day before a snow storm. Winter. He is winter._

_ Gendry took a deep breath and held it for a long while as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling. "I will, Arya. When you are sober and there is more than a blanket between us. And Needle is locked up." _

_ Arya laughed and slapped her hand onto his chest. Her eyelids were heavier now and she struggled to open them. As she slipped into sleep, she didn't even feel Gendry place his hand over hers._


	4. Chapter 4

_Her mother's singing sounded far off. Arya slipped off into the opposite direction. Her mother would frown at the pants she had on and tell her to change. Robb and Jon sparred with each other near the Hunter's Gate with Ser Rodrick looking on. Arya quickened her steps, knowing that Septa Mordane would surely snatch her by the collar and haul her back to her stitches. _Blast the stitches! Let Sansa have her stitching and leave me alone. _Suddenly, Nymeria was with her, running for the weirwood. They raced and the direwolf wholly had Arya beat. Arya felt herself slip into the wolf's body and her nose caught the fresh scent of prey. Through the forest, she tracked the aroma until a dark stag appeared. The wolf sprang for the stag, which turned and dropped its colossal antlers. The wolf and stag crashed together, wolf sinking its teeth into the stag's throat a moment before the searing pain ripped into her belly from an antler. Arya couldn't leave Nymeria's body as the wolf and stag crashed to the ground and the blood flowed out as her life ebbed away. She had loosened her bite on the stag and dragged the wolf's head to look at her opponent. The dark stag had those blue eyes. Arya just stared at the stag through the wolf, not able to stay a word. Snow had started to fall. _Winter_. _

By any gods or hells of any person, her head had never throbbed with such an intense pain. _Oh, that wine._ She pushed either side of her head with her palms, as if to crush the pain out. Keeping her eyes closed, Arya desperately tried to remember what had happened. _Gendry. Seven hells. _Her eyes snapped open and her heart sped up as she thought his body might be spayed out on her floor. A solitary candle flickered its glow to the empty surface and she let go of the breath she had held, sliding her eyelids closed again. A heavy boot shifted across in the corner near her feet. Arya cracked her eyes slightly to see him staring intently at her from a chair at the foot of the bed. She slid her hand under the cover and towards the edge of the bed, where Needle always rested.

"You said that you wouldn't stab me." He folded his arms across his chest, displaying Needle safely in his hand. "M'lady," he added with a low laugh.

Arya bolted to a sitting position and immediately grabbed her head in pain. "Aaaahhhh," she hissed and clamped her eyes shut again. "Give me my sword." She croaked her command and blindly held out her hand.

"Don't stab me." She felt the handle rest in her palm and closed her fingers around it. _Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. Like a foundation stone of Winterfell, her list and Needle were the footholds of her identity. Arya let her arm and Needle drop to the bed and rubbed her forehead with the other hand. _

_ Her eyes flew open in surprise. "I'm going to vomit." Gendry pointed to a bucket next to her feet and she barely had time to grab it before her stomach emptied itself. She was spitting into the bucket when she felt a skin being pressed against her hand. The thought of more wine made her heave again._

_ "It's water." He had quickly thrown a towel over the bucket after she had rinsed out her mouth. She started to greedily suck the water out when he ripped it from her lips. She pulled her fingers tight around Needle's handle as he tucked the skin under his chair. "You'll just vomit it. Lay down."_

_ "Don't tell me what to do, Gendry Waters."_

_ "We will be in White Harbor today." He was staring at his boots. Even with her eyes closed, she could hear countless unspoken questions in his statement. _

_ "Good." She wanted to run away from him and never have to face her disappointment again. Disappointment in his decision to leave her years ago. Failures of her emotions with him near again. I am no one. I am on one. You are NOT my family, Gendry Waters. You left me._

_ "Where will you go?" She glanced up at him while her head rested in her hands. He had no right to ask her. _

_ "Winterfell."_

_ "I…but it's burned out." His voice almost choked off._

Her head was throbbing, but she willed her body out of bed and quickly leaned against the wall for support. Quickly, he was there, steady hands around her waist. Needle reminded him to back away. "You should go. You're good at that." She made sure her voice was strong and poisonous. _No! Fight me. Don't go. I hate you!_ She struggled with herself, with the sensation that she was back with the Brotherhood and watching him make the same decision. Spiteful and aching, she refused to move a muscle when she heard Gendry slide the bolt on the door. _No. Please choose me._

The door pulled shut. If she hadn't had such a bad hangover, Arya would not have had anything to blame her tears on.


	5. Chapter 5

-Disclaimer: FFN has been changing my italics randomly, no matter if I go back and make edits. I am sorry. I hope you are able to see where I infer her inner monologue. ~JS -

Gratefully ensconced in her septa's robes and face, Arya disembarked the ship from Braavos. She had waited to leave until the ship was in utter disarray with passengers and cargo being unloaded, hoping to get lost in the crowd. The commotion of White Harbor was exactly what she wanted; to find an inn as a septa and leave as another. A small girl with a bundle of wood was more that please to part with it for a big silver coin. Arya watched as the girl scampered away, fist tightly closed on the coin. _Live, my little one. Valar morghulis._

The septa's room was small but tidy. There was a tiny window that faced away from the harbor. A man servant muscled a washing tub into her room and then repeatedly brought in warm water, bucket by bucket. Arya remembered to clasp her hands together, as all good septas should. She went to press a coin into his hands, but he knelt for a blessing instead. She recited something Septa Mordane had told her as a girl, but in Braavosi to make it sound more than a blessing for the food.

For the last time, she shed the septa's robes and lowered herself to the tub. The last of the sun's rays spilled through the undersized window and danced on the ceiling in orange and yellow tones. _I'm almost home. Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. _Arya's skin was puckered and the water cold by the time she lifted herself out. A knock at the door had her standing in just her skin with Needle at the ready, water pooling near her feet, in front of the door.

_"_Can I bring you supper, Septa?" asked the boisterous innkeeper.

She backed a step and looked to make sure the bolt was still in place. "Yes, please. And a skin of water and one of wine." Grabbing a towel, Arya covered herself and strategically placed herself in a corner behind the door to wait for the innkeeper. She asked that the plate and skins be placed inside the barely open door when he arrived and saw that he lingered to get a glimpse of the naked septa. _Pervert._

"I'll send my man back 'round for the water after supper." She could tell that he was trying see through any cracks in the door.

"I am not well. Please send him in the morning." _That is a lie. _"I will tend my own fire," she added as he turned and left.

She opened the small chest that had made the journey across the Narrow Seas with her. She took out the soiled small clothes and gave them a quick wash with the soap in her old bathwater before laying them before the fire to dry. Heaping the septa's robes to the fire, she added logs so that their destruction would be absolute. _Nothing but ash. Like my life. I am no one. Valar morhulis._ Flames reflected back into her grey eyes as she found herself finally relaxing and lost to her thoughts.

First pushed backwards, Arya summoned Winterfell, her brothers, Sansa, and their wolves. Her father. She felt her teeth bite hard together as the memory of her father would forever be linked with the sight of him kneeling in front of Ser Ilyn. What had he thought of last as he heard the swing of Ice? Was it her mother? _The Red Wedding. I will burn every last one of you no matter the cost._ Her breathing sped up at the recall when she had watched the guards murder Grey Wind. Had Robb been able to see her through the wolf's eyes? _I will have my revenge, Robb. Mother. What I would give to hear you scold me once more._ Her grasp automatically tightened on Needle. The thought of Bran and Rickon dying at the hands of Theon turned her stomach sour. They had been mere boys! _The Greyjoy line will end. There will never be another breath from a squalling Greyjoy babe._

A log shifted and dropped, grabbing Arya's attention back to the present. She prodded the wood and what was left of the fabric and flipped her drying small clothes before returning to watch the flames from her bed. Jon and Sansa. Being further north, Arya had already made the decision to first head towards The Wall to find Jon or news of Jon or the grave of Jon. _I cannot be the only one. _ She had much coin to pay for information about Sansa on the way to The Wall and dared not to ask for information by raven. No, she would head north first. _Home._

The last patch of the septa's robes gave way to the flames, collapsing in on itself and showering sparks against the bricks. Arya laid back in the small bed with Needle beside her. _Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. I am going home. I will be no one no more. I am the wolf. I am the daughter and sister. I am Winter. _


	6. Chapter 6

The inn was still in the predawn of the morning. Arya silently left the seaside hovel and threaded down side alleys towards the outskirts. By the time she reached the last house, a slash of pink had started on the horizon. She had taken her time leaving the city, sometimes doubling back on her own route to see if anyone was following. _He won't follow me. He left me once and now I'm leaving him._ Once, she had thought she saw movement from a door frame and had nearly decapitated a cat standing on its hind legs, stretching against the door. She hissed at the cat through her new façade; a young woman with a ghastly scar from cheek to chin and back to the forehead. Hideous enough to turn most heads, except small children that would gape and stare in fear, it would allow her to move around White Harbor as both memorable and forgettable. Returning to her patrol on the city streets, Arya made plans to buy supplies for the road and steal a horse.

She shuffled among merchants as they emerged, buying small amounts so that no one was alarmed by the disfigured woman. Flint for fire, "Mine was stolen on the journey here." Rope for tying a horse or someone up, "The pig busted ours." Each lie, unpracticed and unhurried, left Arya's lips with ease. Within the deep folds of her huge skirt, bulked up to make her seem heavier, Arya tucked away each purchase. Had anyone knocked her over and her skirts lifted, it would have looked as if she had her own vendor's stall, pocket by pocket.

After taking nearly an hour to move among the suppliers, Arya returned to the stables of an inn near the Wolf's Den. She had seen the groom earlier, at the start of dawn, shoving horses that were tied in a line. _Yes, he will do_. She pulled her hood off and shook out her dark hair, which fell just past her shoulders, and shifted her face. Younger, more exotic, like the Braavosi courtesans, is what this man would bend to. She quietly came into the stable behind him and pinched her cheeks for quick color.

"Whoa!" She had caught him off guard as he turned with an armful of hay. "What's a pretty lil' thing like you doing here?" He dropped the hay to the nearest stallion and pulled his shoulders back. _I could kill you now._

"I'm just admiring the horses. Do you own any of them?" She animated her body and tugged at the bottom of her bodice to lower her neckline. His eyes followed to the top of her breasts. _I got you._

"These pieces of meat? No! I have my own that I breed outside of town. I'm just here to help out my brother. He owns the place," he bragged as he jerked a thumb towards the shabby inn. Again, he looked at her plunging bodice and Arya caught him licking his lips. She lifted the hems of her skirts to show her ankles as she stepped towards him. Like a sheep to slaughter, his gaze darted down to her naked calves and he chuckled. "I could show you my horse. You can go for a ride."

"Is it big? Your horse?" Arya stepped right up to the groomsman and pulled in her breath, as if she was in anticipation. _As if you would even satisfy any woman. Or horse._

His dirty hands grabbed her left one that had come to rest on his collarbone. He almost started panting as he shoved her hand downward. So intent on his pleasure, he didn't even know where the lady's right hand was until it was resting just below his chin, fully grasping the handle of Needle, who's tip parted his dirty hair. As his body started to sag, Arya pushed him backwards to the wall and slid him into a sitting position and shut his eyes. "Valar morghulis," she whispered before spitting on his dead legs. She saddled up a common looking stallion with an unmarked saddle and left through the north gate, with a lift of her beautiful courtesan chin and a wink to the nearest guard, who grinned like a child at his name-day presents.

The day passed uneventfully. Arya had left the main road and made her way east towards Barrowton, avoiding the main roads. She decided to make her way to Winterfell via Barrowton and then Torrhen's Square, while avoiding Moat Cailin. While her heart longed to gallop her stallion headlong to Winterfell's gates, she knew that caution and information gathering along the way would serve her better. Any bit of news, any report of Sansa or Jon was what she craved, more than the ashen steps of her home.

Afternoon had settled in the forest when Arya dismounted for an early camp. She wanted to be prepared for the night without rushing, to have a small campfire that was hidden from obvious view. Plenty of streams emptied into the White Knife and Arya chose a site that was well hidden from view, partially under a fallen tree. She got her small fire started, then shed her underskirt and unpacked the pockets into a saddlebag that had come with the saddle. Shortly after, the brown overskirt was shed and Arya stood in her britches, grateful it hadn't been a hot day. After a small internal debate about whether to burn the skirted monstrosities, Arya opted to roll them into a pillow to sleep on at night. Plus, she would be able to have another set of clothes, if needed.

She sat down next to the fire as the daylight started to fade and cleared away the rocks so that she didn't wake up with a bruise or knotted muscle. Her mind flitted back to nights as Arry on the Kingsroad, aching for a bed. _The Bull discovering I was a girl. Jaqen. Valar Morghulis._ She pulled out her whetstone and started the centering task of sharpening Needle as she stared into the flames and replayed memories from years past. She felt at peace. Later, she tucked herself next to the fire and fell asleep to the familiar night sounds.

_She lapped up water from a stream while her ears twitched for any sounds. Raising her nose, she sought anything in the form of prey. Her stomach was empty and she needed to feed. There was something different in the air, not prey but smoke, horse and another smell. Something smelled so familiar but she couldn't place what it was. Her paws quietly took her towards the campfire. Through the woods, she could see there was a human with its back next to the fire, asleep. Creeping forward, one hesitant step at a time, Arya was perplexed by the smell. It was coming from the human. The horse whinnied at the smell of her fur and stomped the ground. The human stirred and she halted just outside of the circle of light cast by the fire. And then she figured out the smell._

Startled awake, Arya flipped over towards the fire, with Needle in her hand. "Seven hells," she whispered. "Nymeria?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the delay, hoping to get the next chapter up soon!**

She did not wake up curled into Nymeria like she had dreamed. Arya's eyes opened to the burned out fire and her bones were aching from sleeping on the ground. The dire wolf had elicited a growl of warning the night before when they made contact. Arya thought back to the one sided conversation she had with the wolf.

"Come on, girl. It's me. Arya. Please don't be mad. They would've killed you." The low snarl response kept Arya next to the flames as the wolf backed away and into the shadows. Arya tried to slip into Nymeria's mind but the harder she tried, the more unattainable it became until Arya just stared into the flames, with a few tears escaping. Sleep had eluded her most of the night and waking to a dead fire, she was grateful to have even slept at all.

She broke her fast on some cold bread and fruit. A quick rinse of her hands in the creek and she threw the saddle onto the back of her horse. "I should name you," she pronounced, as she tightened the girth. "Every good steed has worthy name. What is yours?" Arya had moved to the bridle when a noise made her look towards the river. Holding her breath, she left the bridle unfastened and slid Needle from the sheath. After a long pause and no other extraordinary sounds, Arya holstered Needle and turned back to the horse.

"You could name him Mouse since you picked the smallest one." Gendry stood at the stallion's nose, no more than an arm's length from Arya. She jumped backwards and pulled out Needle again.

"Seven hells, Gendry. I could kill you."

"Yes. You've told me that before," he replied as-a-matter-of-factly while he reached up and finished the buckles on her bridle but left the horse tethered to the tree. Arya advanced towards him, still clutching Needle with white knuckles. He side stepped to let her pass under the stallion's neck, "M'lady."

"Why are you following me?"

"Who says that I am following you or that you happened to be on my way?" He had filched a piece of fruit from her saddle bag and bit down into it, nonchalantly. "Put Needle away. You promised me that you wouldn't stab me with the pointy end." He was rechecking the saddle girth and testing the fit of the saddlebags.

"They are fine, I did them myself. I don't need you to check them, like you're my brother. Remember, you have your other Brotherhood," Arya spat out the last word with distain. "You know, the ones that needed you."

"I was never your family." He had turned to face her and stood more than a head taller than her.

"You were all I had. You were my family. You know it, you stupid bull. You know it. I know it. The difference is that I lived it and you left me." She was furious and her gray eyes were raging. Arya found herself fighting to control her breathing. Gendry had no place in her life now. He had left her and had no reason to be let back in. Her family was herself and Needle, who had never failed her or left her. "You have no idea about me, so leave me alone." The last three words were pronounced slowly and with an intensity that he could not mistake.

Gendry looked down at her and she swore that nothing else mattered right then. Until he spoke. "You're wrong, Arry. I stayed with the Brotherhood for you. Because of you." She didn't say a word but her nostrils flared in anger and before she could say anything back, Gendry continued. "I could never be your family with Robb as King of the North and your mother at his side. At best, I could have been a soldier or smith. But never your family."

"You didn't know my brother or my mother, so don't speak on their behalf!" Arya shouted. "I was alone! I just wanted a family. And then they were dead. All I had was The Hound who fished me out of that hellhole." She was in a full boil of rage and Gendry was the target. "You left me! There is no other way around it, you stupid bull. So don't pretend to be righteous and innocent! I was a child with no one and nothing. I was left with even less after you stayed with the Brotherhood. You're a bastard and I hate you for what you did." Arya blinked frantically to keep the tears in. Her right hand had moved Needle up and the tip rested under the soft skin of Gendry's chin.

Gendry tipped his head down and Needle's tip bit through the skin and a drop of blood raced down the sharp blade. His voice dropped low, "I can't change the past. My choices were made. I cannot say that I would change them again because then we would not be here now. Was I wrong to stay and let you go?" His eyes had never left her gaze, as if they would combust if either of them broke eye contact. She lowered Needle to her side. "I will never know. But I searched for you. I never stopped, even when I heard you were dead, that you had been killed along with your brother and mother. I searched the bodies for days until I was exhausted and stank of death. You weren't there and rumors were that you had made it out. And I was content knowing that. You had survived King's Landing, the Gold Cloaks, the Brotherhood and everything in between." Suddenly, he broke into a grin. "I suppose I am a bastard and we both know who my father is, so it's fair for you to call me that. Hate me for my youth, but let me come with you, wherever you're headed. Once you get there, I'll leave."

Arya cleared her throat and found her voice, "I don't need your help."

"Well good, because I didn't offer that. Just wanted to ride with you to help with your saddle."

_Good gods of old and new, I am so confused when I look at his eyes._

"Anyways, Mouse here might throw a shoe and I know of a decent blacksmith." He stepped back and cupped his hands to help her up to the saddle.

Arya stepped over his hands and onto the stirrup to pull herself up, but noticed that his hands came up to slide her foot fully into the stirrup. _Stop touching me._ "I don't care what you do. I don't have enough food for you and you can't keep up with my horse."

"Bless the old gods and new, I have my own horse right over there," he laughed and pointed towards the river. "Hopefully, I can keep up."

"Shut up, stupid."

"As you wish, m'lady."

She kicked Mouse into a walk away from the river and knew that he would catch up soon enough.


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm not entirely happy with where this is going right now, so bear with me for sudden turns ahead!**

They mostly rode one behind the other; Arya always being in the lead. Gendry would alternately fall into long periods of silence, broken by whistling a tune or asking unanswered questions.

"Does it hurt to change your face?"

"Have you seen Jaqen? How is he doing? He was such a favorite of mine."

"When are we going to stop? My saddle is too small."

"I hope you can cook. Can I beg a morsel?"

"Hey, have you heard the joke about the Hound and his Bird?"

Arya's head whipped around at that comment and Mouse was reined to a stop. Gendry smiled slightly, knowing that he had cornered her into talking. "Yes, the Hound and his red feathered bird."

"Shut up."

"Nah. I think I'll just keep on. Something finally made you stop. You can just keep ignoring me and I'll speak whatever I choose." He kept his horse moving and walked right by her.

"This girl has no need for such talk," she mumbled. "Valar morghulis." _No! _ She fought for control over her training. Long ago forced to give over everything, including herself, it had taken months and months to find her own voice again and to speak of herself and not "that girl."

"This girl? What do you mean 'this girl?' You're talking like Jaqen used to talk." Gendry literally spat out Jaqen's name. Arya had fallen in behind Gendry and noticed his hand flex the reins. She cursed at herself for being behind him because she couldn't read his face for emotions.

"He gave me a gift when no one else would. When I was alone," she announced.

Gendry turned his horse around on its heel and rode up next to Arya so they were practically face to face on saddles next to each other. "Enough," he spoke with finality. The one word was spoken with the entirety of a lifetime. "You were never alone. I never left you." As Arya opened her mouth to protest, Gendry raised his voice and plowed forward. "You left me. Remember? I chose to stay. There was no way in seven hells that the King of the North would take me for who I was. I was everything he was fighting against." His eyes bored into Arya's and she felt like a child being lectured. "You saw me sold. So don't presume that I wouldn't have changed my mind. Leave the past there."

"The past makes us who we are now."

"I agree. But what will you gain by bringing it up again and again? If you are that angry at me for being a fool as a boy, then by all means, kill me now because I'd rather die by your hand and have you vanquish your ghosts."

"I will never be rid of my ghosts." _I want my father back. I want Robb and my mother, Bran and Rickon. Lady and Grey Wind._ She dropped her gaze to Mouse's head and realized that her right hand had automatically rested on Needle's handle. "I'm not sorry. It is what I do, what I trained for. I take the anger and turn it into a song for my sword. It gives me focus. Purpose. It is who I am."

"I don't think so, m'lady," Gendry said quietly. Arya watched him carefully place his hand on her arm holding the reins. "You are a princess of the North, an heir of Winterfell. You're a survivor. A face changer. A horse stealer," he laughed.

"A murderer and thief," she shot back and raised her eyes back up for judgment.

"A sister and daughter."

"How do you do that?" Arya blurted out.

"What? Remind a friend of who they are? Easy." He removed his hand and circled his horse around so that they were both facing the same direction. "There are things worth living for and things worth remembering and there are things worth forgetting. I choose what I want to remember. Like my mother's hair. And Hot Pie's cooking." He flashed her another smile. "You choose who you want to be, Arya."

_Seven hells, I'd kill someone for him._ She regressed back into silence and retreated into her own thoughts. She remembered Winterfell and her family, Syrio and her dance lessons, the Kindly Man and those in her travels. Closing her eyes, Arya imagined the faces of her victims. _Valar Morghulis, _she thought, as she touched Needle. She knew he was right but it wasn't to be admitted out loud.

It was entirely too quiet and she could sense that Gendry was watching her as she rode with her eyes closed. "When did you become so smart for a bull?" For the first time in a very long time, a true smile danced across her lips and she dared to open her eyes. He was unabashedly staring at her. Arya felt awkward and embarrassed at the same time and spurred Mouse into a gallop to hide the rising color in her cheeks. _Control my emotions. I am no one. I am no one. I am no one that he could ever…._

The sound of Gendry's horse closed in behind her. "Why are we running?" he yelled.

"Shut up, stupid bull!" she yelled back and laughed. It would be much, much later that she realized that it was the first day in years that she had not recited her prayer.


	9. Chapter 9

There still was very little conversation as the days went on. Gendry seemed content in the silence and broke into a smile whenever Arya felt so inclined to turn her head to check on him. _Why do I keep doing that? I am no one. I am no one._ She switched tactics and instead relied on her training from Beth and listened for his movements. _I can tell you three new things; he knows how to ride a horse well, he has his own food and he has callouses on his hands. One lie; he cares for me._

Rain had started late one afternoon and Arya found herself longing for an inn. "Let's get to the main road and find somewhere to sleep," she called back to Gendry, who looked equally miserable. They plodded on for just over an hour and found an inn teeming with people, perfect for blending in. Arya slipped back into the pretty courtesan's face for the stay and secured the only room the innkeeper had left. "Yes, I'll sleep on the floor," Gendry moaned and rolled his eyes as they handed over the horses to a young boy. He told Arya to go clean up first and then he would be up after he had eaten.

Arya slipped into the warm tub water and scrubbed quickly. The thought of Gendry walking in mortified her. She dressed just as quickly, behind the door, in the wrinkled skirt and blouse before heading downstairs to let him know that he could get clean. She caught a glimpse of her borrowed face in a small reflecting glass and was entertained at how pretty she looked. _I don't know why I should care._

The downstairs hall was crowded, smoky and loud. There was no musician, but a few men in the corner warbled out songs in a drunken fashion. The innkeeper and a servant were busy trying to keep food on the tables. Three whores wove their way around the hall, filling mugs with ale, laughing loudly as the patrons grabbed their parts that were on display and then greedily grabbing the coins that were tossed down. Arya quietly slipped through the crowded floor and looked for Gendry.

She spotted him near the door, perched on a stool with his back to her with a mug of ale balanced on his knee. As she crept closer to surprise him, she froze and stopped breathing at the sight of a fourth whore getting up from her knees in front of him. Arya felt the burn of anger and embarrassment blaze across her cheeks. She took a step and then two backwards before turning as she heard the woman say, "I think that was the best I've seen in a while, love." Arya's hand automatically felt for Needle, as she desperately fled through the crowd and back to her room. _I have to go. I have to go. This girl will go. _A poor drunk felt the sting of her blade across his wrist after he grabbed her when she passed.

In her room, Arya stripped her skirt and blouse and replaced them with her britches and shirt. Pure, unadulterated anger raged in her mind and made her movements jerk and feel hindered. She was fastening closed her warm but damp jacket when there was a knock at the door. "Give me two minutes," she called while shoving her clothes into the saddle bags.

"Oh, hurry up, Arry. I'm drunk and full and just want to go to bed." She heard his head thud against the door and it made her fury even more. "On the floor," he lamented into the wood. _I am no one. I will go. This girl will fly, fly away. No. I will fly away home. I do not need him._

Arya threw her saddle bags over her shoulder and yanked the door open. Gendry sprawled forward and only caught himself from falling by grabbing onto both of her shoulders. "Get. Off. Me. Now," she hissed and made her point by pressing Needle into the top of his ear.

"Seven hells, Arya! What in the gods name is going on?" he howled and stepped aside, cradling his ear. "Why are you dressed and where are you going? We just got here."

She had sidestepped and was standing in the hall. _I am no one. I owe him nothing, no explanation._ She shifted back to her own face and turned to look at him. There was blood running down his face and his eyes were bloodshot. The confused look on his face showed her that he had no idea that she had seen what had happened downstairs. _I am no one._ "I owe you nothing, Gendry Waters. No explanations. No conversation. I owe you my past but I do not owe you my future." She could feel her anger and something else starting to trip up the tone in her voice. Even her gray eyes betrayed her with the tears pooling in the corners.

"What are you talking about? It's my turn for a bath if you're done."

"I am done," she declared. Replacing Needle to her side, Arya left Gendry.


	10. Chapter 10

There still was very little conversation as the days went on. Gendry seemed content in the silence and broke into a smile whenever Arya felt so inclined to turn her head to check on him. _Why do I keep doing that? I am no one. I am no one._ She switched tactics and instead relied on her training from Beth and listened for his movements. _I can tell you three new things; he knows how to ride a horse well, he has his own food and he has callouses on his hands. One lie; he cares for me._

Rain had started late one afternoon and Arya found herself longing for an inn. "Let's get to the main road and find somewhere to sleep," she called back to Gendry, who looked equally miserable. They plodded on for just over an hour and found an inn teeming with people, perfect for blending in. Arya slipped back into the pretty courtesan's face for the stay and secured the only room the innkeeper had left. "Yes, I'll sleep on the floor," Gendry moaned and rolled his eyes as they handed over the horses to a young boy. He told Arya to go clean up first and then he would be up after he had eaten.

Arya slipped into the warm tub water and scrubbed quickly. The thought of Gendry walking in mortified her. She dressed just as quickly, behind the door, in the wrinkled skirt and blouse before heading downstairs to let him know that he could get clean. She caught a glimpse of her borrowed face in a small reflecting glass and was entertained at how pretty she looked. _I don't know why I should care._

The downstairs hall was crowded, smoky and loud. There was no musician, but a few men in the corner warbled out songs in a drunken fashion. The innkeeper and a servant were busy trying to keep food on the tables. Three whores wove their way around the hall, filling mugs with ale, laughing loudly as the patrons grabbed their parts that were on display and then greedily grabbing the coins that were tossed down. Arya quietly slipped through the crowded floor and looked for Gendry.

She spotted him near the door, perched on a stool with his back to her with a mug of ale balanced on his knee. As she crept closer to surprise him, she froze and stopped breathing at the sight of a fourth whore getting up from her knees in front of him. Arya felt the burn of anger and embarrassment blaze across her cheeks. She took a step and then two backwards before turning as she heard the woman say, "I think that was the best I've seen in a while, love." Arya's hand automatically felt for Needle, as she desperately fled through the crowd and back to her room. _I have to go. I have to go. This girl will go. _A poor drunk felt the sting of her blade across his wrist after he grabbed her when she passed.

In her room, Arya stripped her skirt and blouse and replaced them with her britches and shirt. Pure, unadulterated anger raged in her mind and made her movements jerk and feel hindered. She was fastening closed her warm but damp jacket when there was a knock at the door. "Give me two minutes," she called while shoving her clothes into the saddle bags.

"Oh, hurry up, Arry. I'm drunk and full and just want to go to bed." She heard his head thud against the door and it made her fury even more. "On the floor," he lamented into the wood. _I am no one. I will go. This girl will fly, fly away. No. I will fly away home. I do not need him._

Arya threw her saddle bags over her shoulder and yanked the door open. Gendry sprawled forward and only caught himself from falling by grabbing onto both of her shoulders. "Get. Off. Me. Now," she hissed and made her point by pressing Needle into the top of his ear.

"Seven hells, Arya! What in the gods name is going on?" he howled and stepped aside, cradling his ear. "Why are you dressed and where are you going? We just got here."

She had sidestepped and was standing in the hall. _I am no one. I owe him nothing, no explanation._ She shifted back to her own face and turned to look at him. There was blood running down his face and his eyes were bloodshot. The confused look on his face showed her that he had no idea that she had seen what had happened downstairs. _I am no one._ "I owe you nothing, Gendry Waters. No explanations. No conversation. I owe you my past but I do not owe you my future." She could feel her anger and something else starting to trip up the tone in her voice. Even her gray eyes betrayed her with the tears pooling in the corners.

"What are you talking about? It's my turn for a bath if you're done."

"I am done," she declared. Replacing Needle to her side, Arya left Gendry.


	11. Chapter 11

Days stretched to weeks and weeks upon weeks as the snow began to fall. Arya had decided against running at a breakneck speed to Jon's side; she needed to prepare, knowing that women were not allowed on The Wall. As much as she knew that Jon would take her in, she was not sure how the years had changed him, as she herself had become a woman that she had never dared to imagine. It took weeks of concentration to take the face of a young man and Arya was still not satisfied with his girlish looks. Her brown braid was unevenly lopped off at her shoulders. There was no amount of training that would provide facial hair, so she adapted a dirtier lifestyle to cover the smooth skin. As she travelled north, layers of clothes, gloves and a furred, hooded cloak both kept the chill at bay and hid the last of her feminine features. She had shifted her course back east to the King's Road to avoid Winterfell. The distraction of her home and the current occupants could do no good in her life now.

The solitude was gracious to Arya. It provided the time to focus on both her borrowed face, new mannerisms and her new story. _If I didn't speak, my voice would not give me away._ It took several nights during her travels before she conjured up a thick scar across her throat. Touching it with her fingertips, she was satisfied with it and pointed her horse towards the last stretch of road to The Wall and Jon.

Sunshine broke the morning that Arya rode from Mole's Town to the looming Wall. It was far bigger than she had ever imagined, both high and long. _There is no end, either way._ She started to repeat her prayer over and over, almost to a chant, to keep her focus on her borrowed face and away from the joy of seeing Jon. When the list of names became too much, as Castle Black crept closer and closer, she shortened it. _Valar Morghulis. Valar Morghulis. Valar Morghulis. Valar Morghulis. I am no one. Valar Morghulis._

She drew in a deep breath and slid off of her horse as a short man in a black robe approached. _Valar Morghulis. I am no one._ "You've come to take The Black?" He was missing a few teeth and seemed far too thin. She nodded once. "Come on now, answer me out loud!" Arya pulled down the neck of her inner jacket to reveal her faux scar. "Ah, poor lad. Are you hungry?" She shook her head that she was not. _Valar Morghulis. I can do this._ "Let's get your horse put up and bring you to Lord Snow." Arya had to stop herself from clearing her throat from the nervousness of hearing someone can her brother a lord.

Listening to the man prattle on about the severity of life at Castle Black, the cold and the rationed food, more about the cold and the White Walkers, Arya found herself relaxing a bit as she followed him to the stable. More men had nodded a greeting to her borrowed face as they crossed the courtyard to a crumbling tower. _How sad for a lord. How fitting for my brother. Mother would've burned the man that made him a lord, even over this rotting castle._

At long last and suddenly at the same time, Arya stood outside of Jon's chambers as her escort knocked on the door. _Valar Morghulis. Valar Morghulis._ She almost lost her face as her heart raced in anticipation. "Enter," he called from the other side.

"No need to be nervous, son. Lord Snow is a fair man. Strong and just, but fair." He pulled the latch and swung open the door and then disappeared back down the stairs.

Jon sat at a desk, head down and his dark hair fell on either side of his face. Ghost was lying to the side of the desk and sprang up, which made Jon look up. Ghost padded towards Arya and she held her hand out for him to smell while focusing on her face and looking at the dire wolf. She swallowed hard to keep her joy at bay while Ghost pushed his nose into her palm and then licked it. She dared a half smile before looking up at her brother. _Jon. You look so old!_

A look of both anger and suspicion played on his face. By all of the gods, she wanted to laugh, reveal herself and hug him, but she just stood still as Ghost sat down next to her. Jon looked her over and took a deep breath. "There has never been a man that has come to this wall that is not afraid of this wolf. Yet you," he pushed back the chair and stood, "stand with no fear and he accepts you. Ghost, to me." The dire wolf obeyed after looking up at Arya's borrowed face. Jon crossed to the front of the desk and studied Arya. "You have come to take The Black?" She nodded once. "Do you know the price?" She nodded again. "Do you speak?" Arya revealed her scar and looked down as Ghost plopped himself onto her feet. Jon looked exasperated. "Can you write? Can you write your name at least?" He turned and pushed a paper and plume to the edge of the desk.

Arya had not actually thought of it. She had become mute and didn't think of a name. Stepping forward, she scratched out the only name she could think of quickly.

"Arry?" She didn't even look up when he asked. Now that she was close to him, she felt herself losing the battle of her mind. Arya took a measured breath and was about to step back when Jon grabbed the handle of Needle and withdrew it. She looked up at him and saw that first he was sad, but then his face changed into fury before he spoke. "Where did you get this?" He gripped the handle until his knuckles were white and brought the blade towards her chin.

_Seven hells._ She cleared her throat and spoke low. "From a great man."

"So, you are a liar and a thief." He pressed the tip of Needle into her chest. Ghost growled and Arya could not tell if it was at her or Jon. Jon stared at her eyes and she could tell he was enraged. He would kill or hurt her soon, she was sure of it.

"He told me to stick them with the pointy end."

The only noise that Arya heard was Ghost panting. Needle's tip was still pushed into her chest and she locked eyes with Jon, whose mouth had parted open, but nothing came out. His brows furrowed and breathing quickened but no words came. Arya held onto her borrowed face with every ounce of training in her but felt her façade start to falter and turned away so that it could fall without Jon having to witness it.

"I will turn now, but the girl you see is not the girl you knew. I am here but my heart," she bit her lip to keep from crying. "My heart is still in Winterfell with my family. With Father and Robb, Mother and Bran and Rickon. I come to you broken." Heavy hands grasped both of her shoulders and turned her around slowly.

"I don't understand. How are you here? Is it really you?" Jon's eyes filled with tears as he examined Arya's true face. She didn't respond but finally let her tears fall. She had found her brother and all she wanted was for him to hold her, so she stepped into his chest. She caught a sob as his strong arms wrapped around her. "Gods. Oh my gods!" he whispered into her hair. "Arya."

The sound of her name from his mouth filled her with a happiness that she never knew was missing. For those few moments, rediscovering her brother and he realizing that she had found him, she felt truly safe.

*Be patient, Gendry is coming. I promise.


	12. Chapter 12

"But you were a man when you came in! I saw a face of a man with a cut throat!" He pulled down the neck of the inner jacket again and the scar had vanished. "What sorcery is this? What is going on?"

"I have so much to tell you. Just let me hug you again." She leaned into him again and wrapped her arms around him. "I wanted to come sooner, but I couldn't. I know they won't take a woman at The Wall, so I had to become a man." Arya rested into Jon's chest. It felt like home. When she closed her eyes and opened them, she craved Winterfell. "I am not who I was, Jon."

"Nor am I." Unexpectedly, a crow started screaming at Jon. He threw a handful of corn onto the desk and it hopped around, pecking.

"You're much older now," she laughed and touched his face with her hand. "I will tell you everything, from the beginning. It will take days. My life is filled with chaos. With murder and deception and revenge." A slight smile tugged at her lips. "But I've come to you now. You are my home until Winterfell is returned."

Jon shifted his gaze from one gray eye to another until she had finished speaking. He wrapped her into another hug. "You're alive! I can't believe you're alive!" When he pushed her back again to stare at her, she could see that his eyes were red from crying. "You will never leave me. I forbid it." Then he laughed, "Lord Commander Snow forbids it!"

"Oh, Lord Commander Snow, then? Like a title scares me." Ghost had pushed between the two and whined. "But Jon, I need to remain a man here. I can't have you accept me as a woman. It would risk your safety and I need to be here anonymously."

"Does it hurt?"

"Really? When you could ask how I do it, you ask if it hurts." Arya laughed and turned away, only to turn back with her Septa's features, still dirty from the prior face. Jon's eyes were as big as Ghost's paws. "It is uncomfortable because it is not my own." His features twisted into a disgusted look as he reached up to touch her face. "Boo!" she yelled and made him fall backwards onto the desk.

"Snow! SNOW!" yelled the crow.

"Seven hells, Arya!" He composed himself and then touched the aging skin. "Who is this?"

"This is a Septa that I used for traveling. Much safer in her robes. Then there is," she turned and once more dawned the face of the whore. "Men much prefer this one."

"Oh my gods."

"That's what they say too."

"Disgusting. Get it away. Or take it off or whatever you do."

She turned to return to male face she had invoked. "But this is who I need to be for now."

"I hate it."

"I don't care." She was replacing Needle into its scabbard with a sharp knock came at the door.

"Lord Snow, there is a group of new recruits in the courtyard, just arrived from Mole's Town."

Arya looked at Jon and mouthed, "Ooooh, Lord Snow!" and stifled a laugh as he shook his head and yanked the door open.

"I will be there shortly. Let's get them each a sword, see what they can do straight away. This one too," he said, stepping aside and jerking his head towards Arya. "His name is Arry. " Arya dropped her eyes, going back to the character she had to play and made her way past Jon, but not before Jon quickly squeezed her hand as she passed. Ghost trotted out with her until Jon called out, "Ghost, to me."

Back in the freezing courtyard, Arya kept her eyes to the ground and concentrated on her face. As if to bring a cadence to her steps, her mind broke into repeat mode. _Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. _A quick glance up gave her view of 10 or so men that stood together in a bunch, waiting for direction.

A man in black started bellowing at the group to grab a sword from a nearby rack if they didn't have one. A few scrambled quickly and returned to the huddle. The man in charge singled out two of the boys and had them spar. Soon, the rest of the huddle had fanned out into a circle around the pair and were yelling them on. Arya noticed that Jon had quietly joined the circle and was observing.

Arya expected the cold wind but she was nearly to a point of her teeth chattering. She caught Jon's eyes quickly and darted to the next face, on down the circle until she caught her breath._ By all of the gods and hells and everything in between. What in seven hells is Gendry doing here? _He was cheering the fighters until he happened to look up and caught her staring. He squinted his eyes, as if to get a better view from across the circle, and then silently laughed and shook his head as he noticed that Arya's hand rested on Needle's helm.

The two fighters ended their sparring as one yielded to the other and Gendry stepped into the center. "You," he said, extending the blade to Arya. Arya had to think no further than the thought of the tavern wench on her knees to step into the circle and extend Needle to touch his blade and initiate the fight. She fell back onto her training, becoming as fluid as water to wear him down between his strength fueled swings. She danced as their steel clashed and found herself marveling at the fact that he didn't seem exhausted at all. For her every parry, he returned with vigor and almost viciousness. Fatigue crept in at the edges as the crowd roared for Gendry. A slight miscalculation, a minor misjudgment and Needle bounced from her hand.

A cold blade bit into her neck above the faux scar. "Yield." She was seething inside and on her knees in the snow. Arya could hear the men cheering and glanced up to Jon, who had his own sword clutched tightly in one hand and Ghost restrained with another. "I said yield!" Gendry brutally yelled and pushed the blade until it bit her neck and she knew he had drawn blood. A slight nod for Jon to leave her be and Arya rose from her knees with Gendry's blade still at her throat. She leveled her eyes to his and they silently warred with each other. "Say it!" he yelled at her. _Never. _She lowered the neckline of her costume to reveal the scar and the group erupted into chatter. Gendry dropped his sword to his side, continued stare her down and stepped right up to her, looking down into her face. "Yield," he said softly.

Arya stared back, her rage apparent on her borrowed face.


	13. Chapter 13

Arya saw Jon turn and leave. He abruptly turned on his heel and stormed up to Gendry and Arya. "You will both come with me. Now!" He yelled the last word into Gendry's face and stormed off in the direction towards his rooms.

"Now! Now! Snow!" screamed the crow.

"M'lady," Gendry mumbled as he stepped back for Arya to walk in the lead. She retrieved Needle and Ghost bared his teeth at Gendry before trotting back to Jon's side. The confused recruits were led towards another section of the Castle Black, suddenly scared into relative silence.

Arya's mind dropped into her own cadence of solace. _Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. I am no one. I am no one. Jon is here. Jon is here._ As if reverting back to her childhood, Arya knew that Jon would sort this out and he would send Gendry away when she asked. Gendry's heavy footsteps behind her made her furious all over again. He started to whistle and it was all she could do to flex and release Needle's handle.

The door to Jon's room slammed open ahead of Arya as she reached the top of the steps. _You're going to regret this, Gendry Waters._ A feeble smile crept up on her borrowed lips. _This will be fun to watch._ She entered the room and stood aside for Gendry to enter. "Shut the door," Jon said, while still facing away from them both. Arya swung the door shut and Ghost came to her side.

Jon turned and faced them. Arya nearly lost her face when she saw how angry and worried he was when he looked at her. When he shifted his scrutiny to Gendry, Jon took a few measured breaths before addressing him. "For acting stupidly, you will be assigned to any menial task that I can dream up. You will work from dawn to dark and learn that you will not attack another brother in black."

Gendry erupted into a deep, baritone laughter. "A brother? Are you serious? Arya, you are hiding behind your big brother now?"

"Who are you?" Jon thundered. Ghost growled and his fur stood up on end. She turned towards the door and then back with a smile on her own lips. _You're in our house, on our terms now, Gendry. _

"Nifty new face, Arry. Pick it up off of some poor, drunk bastard you killed?"

"The only bastard I wish I killed was you, Gendry." She stepped over to her brother's side. "Lord Commander Jon Snow, Gendry Waters. Or should I just skip the pretense and announce you as Gendry Baratheon?"

"Shut up, Arya."

"Why? You and I both know it's true." Her confidence swelled as she perched herself on the corner of Jon's desk.

"What in the seven hells are you talking about? You're Robert Baratheon's son?" Jon's perplexed face bounced back and forth from Gendry to Arya.

"Bastard," Arya corrected and then drew in a deep breath, realizing who she had said it to. "Sorry, Jon, but as you were father's son, he was King Robert's. However, the slight difference is that King Robert didn't have a clue." Arrogantly, she batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly at Gendry who repaid her in kind with a taciturn stare.

"And how do you know each other?"

Gendry continued to glare and so Arya opted to speak. "The long story would take days. The short story, though, is a dandy. We were both being sent, ironically, to the Wall after father was murdered. He left me to stay with the Brotherhood Without Banners. I was captured by the Hound, then got on a ship to Braavos. I came back. This git was on the ship and figured out who I was and tagged along with me. Right up until the day when I left him with a whore between his knees."

"Knees!" shrieked the crow. "Snow! Snow!"

_Your move, Waters_. Arya cocked her head to the side and pulled a bit of dried meat from a pouch to pop into her mouth. _I will be damned if I ever let you in my life again._

"So, Waters or Baratheon…"

"Waters," Gendry snapped, still looking at Arya.

Jon scratched his head in frustration. "I haven't got all day for the long version. Why did you try and kill my sister just now?"

"I would never kill her, Lord Commander. Never." He finally looked over to Jon. "I knew she was coming to you. I had been in Mole's Town for weeks, waiting for her. She has no idea that I know her, no matter her disguise. I will always know her. And for that reason, I will always protect her."

"I don't need your protection!" Arya cried. "I certainly don't need the company of a whoring man who annoys the hell out of me." She scoffed and started pacing back and forth. "What would I need protection from besides whoring men who like to leave their family?"

Gendry stood stone still until she stopped and faced him. _I hate you. You betrayed me. I want you to stay but go away._ "With your permission sir?" he asked Jon, who nodded in return. "With the deaths of your trueborn brothers and your sister missing, Arya, don't you realize that you hold the kingdom of the North?"

His words reverberated in her mind as she sat down in Jon's chair and put her gloved hand to her closed eyes. _My gods, my gods. I am no one. I am no one. I am the queen of the North._


	14. Chapter 14

I apologize now...but I feel a slow burn coming on.

A pounding on the door sent the three of them scrambling. Arya sprinted to a corner and faced the wall as Jon yanked the door open. "What is it now?"

"A raven, Lord Snow."

"Snow! Snow! Corn!" Arya wanted to break the crow's neck.

Jon perused the note and let out a frustrated sigh. "You two will remain here until I return. No one, absolutely no one, is to disturb them. Understood?" He wagged his finger at his steward. "When I get back, we will finish this conversation," he said as he pulled the door closed behind him.

Gendry's heavy boots scraped the floor as he moved towards the fire. Arya heard him put on two logs and then the heavy silence was punctuated by the crackling of the fire. _I am no one. I am no one. Valar morghulis._ She refused to turn to even warm herself, instead leaning forward, she rested her forehead on the cold wall and allowed her eyes to close again.

"Are you alright? I didn't mean to…I lost my temper and I'm sorry that I cut you." His voice was so low that she wasn't sure, at first, if she had heard it or was imagining it.

Bravado took over her countenance. "Of course I'm alright. It was just a scratch." The pregnant silence again filled the room. "How did you know it was me?"

His low chuckle made her turn to face him. She'd rather be laughed at to her face. "I will tell you some day, but not today."

"You are stupid." _Did I really just say that? I sound like a child._

He responded with a loud laugh. "That's been long established. But who's the stupid one now? I figured you out. You're just angry with me."

"I have been for a long time now."

"Arya," he began and was cut short.

"I am no more queen of the North than you are King of the South."

"Well, technically I'm king of the entire Westeros since you did just yield to me."

"Bastard."

"Also another well-established fact. Any other old news that you'd like to bring up? Anything that you'd like to air out before your big brother gets back? The whoring man who leaves his family?" Gendry's face twisted into disgust. "What do you want from me, Arya? You left me last, remember? But I get it now. For weeks I have been trying to understand what happened, what I did wrong."

Arya furiously blinked her gray eyes. Just the thought of that wench coming up from between his knees had Arya's mind jumbled again. _Shut up. Shut up Gendry Waters. You don't know me. I am no one. I am not queen of the north. _

"Say what you want to say because this is the first time you've ever been silent this long." She realized that he looked weary and angry and she despised herself for being the cause. He never broke her gaze and when she remained silent, he stepped towards her. "Just to clarify, m'lady, you have no need to be angry. That woman that you are so fixed on, that whore? You have no need to think on that. I was weak. And she was everything you are not."

Arya saw the pain and regret on his face but her mind heard his last words and sank. "I get it. She was everything I am not. Everything you wanted." She clenched her teeth together and tried to breathe slowly to lessen the ache in her chest. _I am no one. No one._

In a flash, he viciously swept his arms across Jon's desk, sending the papers fluttering around the room. When he stopped and clenched his fists, Arya swore she saw frustration on his face. Gendry closed his eyes, dropped his chin and let out an enormous sigh. He swore quietly. "No. That's not it. What will I do with you," he asked as he raised his blue eyes to look at her. "What is it that you say, Valar morghulis?"

"Valar morghulis," she whispered and suddenly was grasped by both shoulders. Gendry towered over her and flicked his stare from one gray eye to the other. _Why do you do this to me? I'm so confused. I hate you. I don't hate you. I want to be her. I don't want to just be Arry to you. _Arya didn't realize how quickly she had been breathing until she held her breath as Gendry leaned down and rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes again. "Don't you ever leave me again, Arya." He pulled back and when she thought he was going to turn away, he instead bent down and rested his forehead on her shoulder. Feeling awkward and not knowing what else to do, Arya rested her head against his the closed her eyes. _If I could just stay here. Right here._

His hair smelled dirty and sweaty, exactly like he should smell. With her nose, she breathed in the smell of his leather jerkin and her skin picked up his warmth. A tendril of his hair fell and tickled her nose, so much so that she reached over his head to soothe it away. _If I was only like her, if I was someone instead of no one. _Her fingers slowly raked through his black hair at the base of his neck. A low rumble came from his throat and Arya felt a strong hand rest on her hip.

She wasn't prepared to be pushed backwards. "I've got to go," he mumbled as he backed away from her.

"But Jon told us to stay here," she managed to squeak out as he nearly removed the door from the hinges in his escape, leaving the Queen of the North with a mind as scattered as her brother's papers.


	15. Chapter 15

Short chapter. Sorry, crazy busy.

Someone pointed out the back and forth of the personality of Arya in this story. I just tried to imagine watching your father being murdered, being kidnapped, becoming a murderer, losing your own identity and finally coming back to the one person that you had craved to make you whole. And throw in a healthy dose of teenage hormones. So, yeah, her personality bounces. Can you blame her?

Jon didn't even dare to ask her what had happened when he returned and she was gathering the papers, muttering about not knowing which order they were in. He finally stood her up and guided her to his quarters. Ghost nudged Arya's hand after she lay down on Jon's bed. "Go to sleep, little sister. We will figure it out later," he whispered with a sad smile. "You're home with me. Go to sleep."

Snow. Everywhere there was snow. It covered the ground and weighed the tree boughs down so much that the ends plunged into the growing banks of snow. Arya struggled with the sensation but soon calmed to the smells that came through the direwolf's nose. The scent that the direwolf tracked was so familiar and strong that Nymeria bounded herself through the deep snow as fast as she could in an attempt to catch up to the origin.

A sharp, foreign odor slapped her senses and Nymeria froze in place. _Something is wrong. This smell, it's dangerous. _Arya looked through her canine eyes, but could see nothing in the falling snow. The hound's ears failed to hear anything and so Arya took a tentative step forward. Even one small step and the aroma of the unknown smell grew stronger, causing the hair on the back of Nymeria's neck to stand up straight. _Stop. Who is there?_ A deep, vibrating growl emitted. _Show yourself!_ Ayra bared the direwolf's teeth. Just to her left, something moved underneath a tree, hidden by the shadows. Nymeria's body turned to face the intruder as she braced for an attack.

As her eyes snapped open, Arya realized she was being shaken and someone was calling her name. Still halfway between Jon's quarters and somewhere in the snow, Arya grasped for Needle and pushed backwards away from the large hands that were on her shoulders. Her eyes were open, filled with the man in front of her and the shadow under the tree at the same time. "Stop!" she yelled, terrified of the double vision. "Get away from me!" Needle was free from the scabbard and she was off of the bed and backing across the room.

"Arya?" She could hear his voice through her own gasping. The snow was fading but the dread of the shadow under the tree made Arya's heart race. He tentatively took a step towards her, but stayed out of Needle's range. "Arya, wake up. It's Jon." The snow darkened into the room that she stood, sword pointed at her confused brother.

"Jon."

"Yes."

"Nymeria. She's out there. She's in trouble! There is something wrong; something under the tree that is dangerous!" Her words tumbled out like a bucket of water being overturned.

"What? I don't understand. Can you put the sword down?"

She lowered Needle, closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. _Was that real? Was I there or was it just a dream? The smells. That shadow. I was there._ "I think I was just dreaming rather deeply." Arya sheathed Needle and made a face at Jon. "Sorry I tried to stab you."

"And here I thought you were happy to find me." He hugged her tightly. "Nymeria? Your wolf?"

"Yes. Have you ever had a dream that smelled and felt real?" _It was real. But he will think I'm crazy for having been in Nymeria. In Nymeria? It sounds crazy to me. Maybe I was dreaming?_

The confused look on Jon's face told her his answer. He crinkled his nose and took a deep breath. "So, you want to tell me what that was earlier with Baratheon?" Jon stressed the last word like it was a foreign word that he was pronouncing for the first time. "How in seven hells did you end up with a Baratheon?"

"Let me start before then and I'll get to him." Arya plopped herself back onto the bed and motioned for Jon to sit beside her. She started her story back when they had left Winterfell and Jon to The Wall. He laughed at their father's idea of dance lessons and held her tight as she described his death. "They used Ice." _Valar morghulis._ Then she relived her tales on the road, with the boy known as Gendry Waters. Keeping her breath even and her voice steady, she never let on that she had told Gendry that they could be family, that she was replacing the ones she thought dead with the blacksmith. Arya kept to herself the times that she watched him and caught him looking at her. She also left out the emptiness she felt as she watched him be taken away. Instead, she quickly switched to Braavos and her time there, leading to her return.

Jon stopped her at that point as he heard shouting in the courtyard. Arya noticed that night had begun its decent and slipped out behind Jon. It didn't take much for her to figure out where the pounding metal sound came from. She safely hid behind her borrowed face and silently nodded to anyone she saw on the way to the forge. One foot in front of the other, her ears were filled with the ringing of metal on metal. _The rhythm is like a song._ She halted when she saw Gendry's back and his arm swinging the hammer in time. The pitch was so loud that she nearly covered her ears but chose to remain stone still and watch him work. _I am no one, Gendry Baratheon. I am not queen of the North. I am no one._

His song came to a sudden stop and he looked back over his shoulder at her, partially obscured by the shadows on the wall. _If you could see me with those eyes. I am no one to you. _His gaze dropped to her feet. Then, with a sigh, he wielded his hammer and played his song for all to hear.


	16. Chapter 16

While the rest of Castle Black moved at its normal pace, Gendry and Arya were left on their own, per Jon's orders. Even in her borrowed face, Arya kept her distance from the other men and found herself slinking in the never ending shadows of the ruins. For days, they danced around each other, Arya spending countless, silent hours in the armory as Gendry mended swords, chainmail and even tools. She found a small stool in "her spot" within a couple of days and couldn't help but smile at the gesture. Her head would rest against the ice cold wall just inside the doorway as Gendry's hammer would sing a song of metal. Sometimes he would hum while the metal heated in the forge or he would move from one project to another. Her hands were kept busy with the menial tasks that he wordlessly placed into her lap, like sharpening the new blades or working on the smallest links of chainmail that he struggled with. Meals were delivered and consumed in muteness. With minimal eye contact and silent conversations, they continued for over 8 days until there were no more repairs to be made.

Arya felt oddly comfortable with the absolute lack of words, as if the Kindly Man had taken her tongue to teach her a lesson. The quiet made her relive her memories, struggle at some and find solace in others. It made her face her own decisions in her short life, right or wrong, good or bad, that brought her to the solitude of the forge. When she thought that she would violate the unspoken vow of silence, when her memories drudged up something that she wanted to ask him, she would repeat her prayer to quiet and focus her mind. Always, the prayer would end with the same benediction. _Valar Morghulis. I am no one. I am no one._ Arya struggled with the fact that Gendry had called her the Queen of the North and would clamp down her teeth so hard that it would hurt her jaw. _Sansa is the Queen. I am no queen. I'm not even a lady. I don't want to be the queen. I want to ride a horse and sit in a forge, not talk stuff and nonsense with idiots._ _I've got to find Sansa. I don't want to be the queen._ The ringing of the hammer on the metal would interrupt her internal warring and she found herself staring at Gendry's bent over form time and time again. _If you had been my family, if we had a different life, would we have still ended up here? Do you remember the acorn dress? Or Harrenhal? Would you blush at Sansa's beauty and grace?_

Their days would close when Gendry would cease to feed the forge late in the evening and place his tools on the table in a neat row. Arya would straighten and stretch her shoulders, while kicking her stool against the wall. She would quietly turn and go to the quarters that Jon had assigned her, near his own. The first night, Arya bristled at the sound of Gendry following her, but soon likened herself to a maid bringing home the bull from the pasture. The same routine, night after night, she'd get to her door and look him in the eye as he stood at the top of the stairs watching her. He would stand there until she would go in and latch the door and she would press her ear to the door to listen to his footsteps fade before sneaking to the window to peer through a tiny hole to watch as he passed back to the forge, where he slept in a room to the side. Every night, he would look up at the closed, wooden shutters without stopping his return and her heart would race a bit faster. _Can he see me? _His head would drop and she would shift her stance until the wood blocked her view. _Good night, you stupid bull._ As she fell asleep, she realized that the hole inside her felt smaller and smaller every time she fell asleep.

On the morning of their tenth day at Castle Black, Arya began it in the same way as any other day. She braced for the chill of the water that she splashed on her face and wiped it clean with a towel before combing her hair and bringing up her hood. Heavy footsteps passed her door as the men of the keep began their day. She was just focusing on her borrowed face when a soft knock came at the door. "Arya?" Jon whispered through the door frame. He made a face of revulsion when she opened the door. "I hate that," he said quietly, looking around the features of the man's face she wore. "It's not right." He crinkled his nose and made a gagging noise while sticking out his tongue. "Come on, I need to talk with you in my quarters."

She followed him, head bowed, to his room and her gray eyes flicked up at the movement from the corner to see Gendry leaning against the wall with a thick robe around his shoulders for warmth. She stopped and an old thought crept into her head. _Calm as still water. Fear cuts deeper than swords._ A slow and measured breath brought calmness to her mind. _Valar Morghulis._ His blue eyes looked nowhere else but to her and she only broke her stare to glance at Jon as he placed a hand on her shoulder after closing the door. He made his gagging face again and she smiled and turned to replace her own face. "Better," he whispered, pressing his forehead to her own. "Gods I've missed that smile. I'm sorry I haven't been around for you lately." He pulled a chair towards the bed and then sat on the bed, pulling Arya to sit next to him. "Sit, Baratheon," he requested in a not-so-suggestive tone of voice.

"Waters."

"Whatever. Sit." Arya stifled a laugh. "There is going to be a problem soon with you having to take the black, Arya. Obviously, you can't. You know, being a girl and all." He was grinning ear to ear. "But you can take it," Jon continued, looking at Gendry.

_No._ As she felt panic, her hand slipped to Needle's helm and Gendry's eyes tracked the movement. "That is how I will always find you," he professed, addressing Arya. "Needle is the one thing you trust, the one thing that has never failed you." She tore away from his gaze to stare at her hand on the handle.

Jon scoffed beside her and she looked to search her brother's eyes for confirmation. "Excellent observation, Barath…Waters." Jon's eyes matched his amusement. "But if you stay, you must take the Black. That is how it is done here. And there are no women living here, Arya, so you must leave." His delight had faded into a seriousness that was dire.

"I don't want to leave you, Jon!" Arya's voice was gravelly from abandonment. "Don't make me go." The tears dammed up in her eyes but wouldn't drop. The hole that had been filling day after day seemed to suddenly consume her entire body. Gendry would take the Black, Jon would remain Lord Commander and she would have to leave. "Please don't make me go. I can't leave you." She glanced from Jon to Gendry and realized that she was talking to both of them, the only two people that mattered in her life.

"I'll never take the Black, Lord Snow. I cannot." Arya looked to Gendry, eyes full of hope, but didn't say a word. _Stupid bull! You can be my family. Jon won't mind._

"Then you must leave also. Preferably together. If you don't kill each other or wreck anything, like my desk." He had a comical but sad smile. "Go to Mole's Town for now. Let me figure out something. But you'll still be close. And lose the scary face, Arya. Be yourself. I missed that face." He again rested his forehead onto hers. "You look like Father." Arya was so taken back by Jon's words that she found herself weeping into his neck and her arms wound tightly in a hug.

"I met your father," Gendry offered to the siblings. Arya knew the story, but leaned into Jon as Gendry restated the visit from Ned Stark to Tobho Mott's smithy that followed the visit from Jon Arryn. "I had no reason to question their visits. When the Gold Cloaks came for me on the road, it was Arya that put it together for me. Or rather, Arry at that point," he added with a smirk. "But until the Red Woman took me, I didn't believe it. Don't know if I do to this day." _When did you stop shaving? Your beard is growing in nicely. Seven hells, I hope I didn't say that out loud._

"You stupid bull. Of course you're Robert Baratheon's son. A near image of him!"

"Some say closer to Renly," he replied, as-a-matter-of-fact.

"Shut up, stupid." _Oh, you make me so mad so quickly._

"Now, children," Jon mockingly taunted them before returning to the more serious task at hand. "You'll need to leave tomorrow. Can I trust you to stay out of trouble today?" Arya rolled her eyes at him before making a face of disgust. "Here is some coin," he solicited, bringing a small bag out from his cloaks.

Arya reached into her own pockets and produced a larger bag. "No thanks. I've got my own. Maybe he needs it, though."

Jon didn't wait for an answer, but threw the bag onto Gendry's lap. "Consider it payment for the smithing. Don't argue." Arya couldn't help but notice that Jon was acting a bit protective around her. "This will buy you new tools wherever you land." Turning back to Arya, Jon continued, "So you go to Mole's Town and I will send a message to you within a week."

"A week?" she exclaimed. "What will we do for a week in Mole's Town?"

"Stay out of trouble, is all I ask, sister. And he will keep you from that, hopefully," he said, leveling a serious look at Gendry.

"She seems to find her own trouble, m'lord."

"Oh, I know."

"Shut up, both of you."


	17. Chapter 17

I struggled with this chapter, sorry. Hoping to get the train back on the track.

They were each put on their horses and only Jon saw Gendry and Arya off in the darkness of the pre-dawn the next day. Arya had to force herself into the saddle and was grateful for the darkness to hide her tears. A mile or so away from Castle Black, Gendry rode beside her. "I wasn't sure that you would leave him," he uttered softly. She wouldn't answer. The snow began to fall again and Arya felt lonely, even with the stupid bull beside her.

Just after dawn, the horses loped into Mole's Town through the heavy blanket of snow. After leaving the horses with a waifish stable boy, they sat on a bench inside the stables to wait for the town to awake. The owner of the inn was a dirty, round fellow who specified that he'd received a raven addressed to himself to, "Make ready two rooms for guests of Castle Black." Arya had drawn her hood low, over most of her face and stayed behind Gendry to hide herself, much to the chagrin of the stout inn keep, who kept trying to position himself to get a better look. He led them through a double doorway to earthen stairs that led deep into the earth. A few turns and doors later, he announced their arrival at their rooms, "The best that I've got." The rooms were side by side, the doors practically within arms distance of the other. Arya ducked into the first room and quickly shut the door behind her. "Ah, that one's a bit squirrelly. But a friend of da wall is a friend of the Mole." Arya could imagine the man looking seriously at Gendry and waiting for his coin.

Gendry's coin purse clinked together as he talked quietly. "We will need our meals delivered today. I will give you instruction later regarding tomorrow." Arya imagined the inn keep giving a stern nod before shuffling away. "You can come out now," he addressed her door. She pulled it open and stepped back to allow him entry. He ducked his head through the doorway and squinted in the darkness before holding up the lantern the inn keep had passed to him. They both looked at the windowless, small room with its earthen walls, small bed, small desk and small chair. Everything about the room was abbreviated. _I truly do feel like a mole._ Gendry lit the lantern on the desk as Arya shed her thick jacket to the bed and dropped her bag on top of it. He turned and faced her as the glow in the room grew. _It is either silence or yelling. Because I am no one._

Advancing a slow step at a time, Gendry never faltered her gaze until he towered over her. _Calm as water. Calm as water. I am no one. I am no one._ She held onto his blue eyed stare and flinched when he silently brought a rough thumb up to her chin. _I am no one. I am no one._ As if on cue, he whispered, "Valar morghulis." Arya let the breath go that she had been holding and bit her bottom lip.

"Valar morghulis," she sighed back. His eyes shifted back and forth between her own, like he was reading a book.

"Were I a highborn," he pondered, moving his thumb to her lips. "I would be the King of Summer and you the Queen of Winter. I, the bull and you the wolf." Arya realized that her hands had landed on his cloak and were gripping it as if her life depended on it. "But I am too lowborn, a bastard, to my lady." She didn't miss the fact that he'd changed it to sound possessive. "Had it been any other way, we wouldn't have met. And I'd rather be a lowborn bull and watch you rise as Queen than have been stuck with Hot Pie." His crooked smile matched her own as she shook her head to the contrary.

"You are stupid to think that I will be Queen. Sansa is Queen. I am no lady to be the Queen. Queens wear dresses and talk pretty."

"Acorn dresses."

"Shut up."

"I'm going to go inquire about the forge. Do you need anything before I go?"

His hand had left her face and she shoved both of her fists, still gripping his cloak, away from her body. "Nope. Just run along now. I'll find something to do. Or someone to kill."

"Be a nice murderer." Gendry turned and closed the door behind him. She leaned against the shared wall and slid to the floor. _What just happened?_ She heard him leave and thought about following him before deciding on a different task, one that he would never expect and that she needed to see to sooner rather than later, at the rate her life was ever changing.

Arya moved like a ghost as the tunnels of Mole's Town started to teem with residents. After a few inquiries, she found herself measured and satisfied with the task to be performed. With her hood draw back up, she made her way to the forge and checked in on Gendry. The forge had a large room with a gigantic opening in the ceiling, drawing the hot air out, still the air was thick with heat. She tried to blend in with the passing crowd while checking on him as she passed. Three times.

The tunnels stretched for miles, with all the shops and residences mingling together. Arya took her time learning the underground town, as it would be her lodging for the next week. _My prison. I cannot even see the sky to tell what time of day it is._ Ever cautious and paranoid that someone would discover her, Arya gave her name at Cat danced around any details. The closeness of the tunnels and crush of the crowded areas sent her retreating past the forge, back to her quarters.

Once inside, Arya realized her hand ached from the tight grip she had on Needle. A soft knock on the door caused she to draw Needle and point it at the barred door. _Who followed me?_ "Your meal, m'lady," called a young voice.

_Seven hells, you're like a frightened child._ Needle resumed its place in the scabbard and Arya cleared her throat. "Leave it. Thank you."

With her one task taken care of, there was nothing to do for Arya except wait and she was not good at that. _Sansa would be good at waiting. Sansa is good at everything that I am not. Which is why she is Queen and I will be no one. Where are you, Sansa?_

She heard his footsteps before his knock. "You okay in there?"

Arya had pulled open the door before he finished speaking. "I am bored and liable to murder someone because I'm stuck like a rat underground and I can't even tell what time it is." _Talk fast and it won't be weird._ "Take me outside."

"Yes, m'lady." She strained to see into his room as he retrieved his cloak. _Same as mine. Except smellier._ Familiar silence descended upon the pair as they made their way up to the surface and through the same double doors they had entered earlier. As they reached the front door of the upper room of the inn, Arya realized nightfall had begun to arrive.

"Aw, seven hells, Gendry. It's nearly night."

"And that has stopped you when?"

"I just couldn't stand not seeing the sky. Even when I was here before, I stayed up top." She walked in the thick mounds of snow, towards the forest's edge.

"I know."

"That's right. Stalker."

She heard him pull on his cloak. "Hey, I made it past stupid stalker. I'm moving up in the world."

"Not so fast, bastard," she laughed and instantly regretted it. Turning as quickly as the words escaped her lips, she could barely see him, even though he stood just out of her reach. In the fading light, she could see his jaw flex and nostrils flare. "I..nothing I say will make that right," she breathed out in horror. She yelled a curse to the sky and turned back to the forest and ran as fast as she could. _Foolish, stupid, stupid wolf! I am no one. I have to go. I am no one._

When her lungs screamed for air and her legs tired of pushing through the snow drifts, Arya fell to her knees and into a heap of furs. "Gods damn me to every single one of the seven hells," she moaned into the snow bank. "Valar morghulis."

Nearby, a wolf wailed the most poignant howl she'd ever heard in her life.


	18. Chapter 18

There was a quiet in the snow that Arya agreed with, that calmed her soul even for a heartbeat of a moment. Through her heaving sobs, the falling snow covered her in a blanket of momentary serenity. _I can't do anything right. I cannot be faceless because I want my past. I cannot be no one because I want to be me. I can't be with my father. I don't want to be a lady. I don't want to be a highborn. I just want to be Arya. Just Arya, the no one._ Her grey eyes closed as her head bowed forward. With one giant breath to fill her lungs, she screamed at the top of her voice in frustration. A nearby howl echoed her as she finished into a sob. _I just want to find Sansa and go home with her and Jon to Winterfell. I want Father._ "I want my father," she whispered to the ghostly shadows in the snowy forest.

The silence of the drifting snow allowed her to remember what had brought her to this point. Arya Underfoot. Her dancing lessons and Father. The Brotherhood, the Hound, the House of Black and White. She tried to recall the face of each of the men that she had killed. Bitterness that overwhelmed and desperate revenge that became her only driving force until she had seen the stupid bull on that ship.

_Gendry. You make me crazy._ In all of her careful planning on Braavos, she had never figured him into any of the equations and he had completely thrown her strategies into the wind. She wanted nothing more than to go back to her original idea of finding Sansa and returning to Winterfell, but there was a deep rooted fear of losing Gendry again. As much as she tried to blame him for leaving her, she realized that she was just as at fault. _Gods, I was born an unlucky idiot. I need to apologize to him._ Arya let out a sigh, pushed herself up from the snow and brushed off her cloak. _I just wanted to go outside for air and I screwed that up._

The decent to her room was spent with her mind in motion. _What do I say to him? "I'm an idiot and I didn't mean that." I'm as stupid as he is. Maybe stupider._ For the years of wisdom gained, it all fled in that moment. Arya pondered other ways to apologize, to grovel and hope that he would forgive her. She had not seen him outside and hoped he had retreated to his room or the forge.

Slowly and suddenly at the same time, Arya found herself standing in front of his room. A faint light showed under the door and she forced herself to knock, the other hand clutched around Needle. The chair scraped the floor and his heavy footsteps sounded twice before the door was hauled open. He looked weary and desolate. Gendry stared Arya in the eyes until she finally blurted out, "I am so sorry, Gendry." Seeing no reaction on his face, she continued, "It was wrong to say that. I shouldn't have said that. It was stupid and I'm sorry." She had hoped to sound noble and eloquent, but it sounded like a ten year old making an apology for stealing a cookie. Still, he stood silently, never wavering in his scrutiny of her eyes. "I don't know what else to say, you bull. What do you want from me?" she professed in frustration.

Arya found her face captured in his hands and his lips squarely on hers. As quickly as it started, it ended. "That," he whispered as he lowered his forehead to hers, "is what I want. It is what I will never have. But now you know. Gods damn me to the hottest parts of the seven hells for reaching that high." His lips twisted into a sad smile. "A bastard and the Queen of the North." Gendry pulled his head back and laughed quietly. "Don't say anything to screw this up. I'm going to go back into my room and shut the door. In the morning, you will be Arya and I'll be the stupid bull and we'll wait for Jon's letter. Then we will go find Sansa. Just nod your head, m'lady." She obeyed, silently.

Gendry disappeared behind his door and Arya stepped into her own room. After stripping herself down to her smallclothes, she buried herself in the blankets on the bed and contemplated what had occurred. As her mind raced ahead to possibilities and behind to memories, she finally squeezed her eyes tightly and mouthed, "Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. Valar morghulis. I am no one. I am Arya Stark, the wolf of Winterfell. He wants me." The blackness of the room concealed her smile, but it stayed on her lips until she drifted off to sleep.

Arya woke to Gendry's footsteps headed away from her door. Her bed seemed unquestionably comfortable, so she stretched under the covers and allowed herself to drift back into sleep until a light knock woke her. "Miss, a bath."

"I didn't order a bath," she replied.

"It was sent by the ser."

_Right. I must be either completely filthy or smell like a trough._ "Come in."

A young woman entered, lugging a large wooden tub and lantern, followed by three men with enormous buckets of steaming hot water. Embarrassed, Arya hid her face under the covers until the maid called out, "They are gone, miss. Them's just my brothers. They'd get their cocks cut off if they looked wrong at the Lord Commander's special guest, so don't worry about them." The maid's dark braid reached down past her waist and she struggled to tip the water into the tub. "Let's get a bit more light in here and then getcha in the tub." She lit the two lanterns that were in the room and finished filling the tub. "Out of the bed which ya." Unceremoniously, she flung back the blankets from Arya. Arya forced herself to leave Needle under the pillow.

It had been so many years since Arya had been attended to that she was mortified to sit naked in the hot water while the young lady scrubbed her skin pink and fought through the tangle of dark hair. Nothing about the bath was relaxing. _ I'd rather lie in a stream and rest than go through this ever again. Septa Mordane would be shocked to see me this clean again. _ She was pushed under the water for a rinse and then ordered out of the tub. Wrapped in a soft, light linen, Arya actually relaxed slightly as she was briskly rubbed dry. Her hair was combed through again and she waited obediently on her bed, as instructed, while the maid unwrapped a bundle that she had fetched from outside of the door.

Arya groaned as a brown dress was unfolded, followed by smallclothes. "I won't leave this room in that."

_"_It's the best I got!" countered the maid, offended.

"Fine." Defeated, Arya allowed herself to be powdered and then buttoned into the contraption that had a neckline entirely too low for her liking. "Can you do something about this?" she asked, pointing to the top of her peek-a-boo cleavage as she pulled up on the material. It was even lower than the dress she used with the whore's face.

"No." Soft slippers were shoved onto her feet. "You look like a fine lady. I'll just get these to the laundry," the maid answered. She held the shirt and britches that Arya preferred and scrunched her nose in displeasure. "Ladies should not wear such things."

"Well, I'm no lady."

"You are, you just don't know how to be one." She jerked the door opened to leave. "My brothers'll be back for the water in a bit."

"Thank you," Arya fumed. She felt as awkward as she had in the acorn dress years ago. She tried in vain to pull up the neckline and then struggled to fit a piece of linen to cover herself. Subsequently, she flopped onto the bed, conquered by the sunken neckline, Arya recited her prayer quietly. "Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei. The damned seamstress who made this dress. Valar morghulis."


	19. Chapter 19

To those looking for a little action…check out the rating. There won't be any smut. But I'm not objecting to some creative writing. You'll have to stay tuned for that.

There were no more than a handful of times that Arya found herself in Gendry's companionship for the next few days. He had effectively become a ghost to her, never more than a quick smile when she caught a glimpse of those blue eyes before disappearing behind a door or turning to the forge. _Well, hells, I'm a leper._ Arya had finished her errands that she had started the day after arriving and spent most of the time in the tavern, hidden in the shadows, listening to the gossip of the travelers and plying drunks for information from the Vale. More than once, the Hound's name surfaced and Arya battled with her internal fury against the man. With Gendry's absence, Arya started honing her plans to find Sansa.

Nymeria returned to Arya's dreams again. Arya found herself struggling to slide into the wolf's body in the cover of night. Unfamiliar scents and the strong taste of her prey's blood left her gagging when she would bolt awake, never knowing if it was day or night from the windowless room. _I'll never live without a window. I'd rather sleep in the forest than here. The gods bless Jon and his intentions, but I'll be leaving soon with or without his permission._

Being the "Lord Commander's special guest" brought unwanted attention wherever she went and hampered her preference for remaining unseen. Her preparations to leave that required little to no detail were given a fanfare that irritated Arya to point that she sought out Gendry at the forge to let him know that she had to leave, even without Jon's command. Livid and exasperated, she practically shoved people out of her path until they darted away like scared children. _I am leaving. He is coming. I'll make him understand that he is coming and we'll find Sansa. Get out of my way! I'll send a message to Jon today. We can leave tomorrow. Get out of my way. Now! I can't handle another day in this hole._

Arya stormed into the forge and stopped short of Gendry due to the invisible wall of heat. He hammered his project relentlessly and no about of yelling his name could catch his attention. Incensed from the Mole's Town residents and the fact that Gendry couldn't hear her, Arya stepped closer to the furnace and grabbed ahold of his arm that held the sword he was shaping. His hammer dropped and his eyes were tinged with anger as he turned to glare at his interrupter. A heartbeat later, his eyes dropped to the front of the borrowed dress that Arya still had on.

"For the gods' sake, Arry, cover up!" He looked up and over her head to the wall.

She had forgotten to grab something to cover herself in the haste to get her final preparations done. A quick glance down and she threw up a hand to cover her low neckline. "I'm sorry, it's not mine. The girl gave it to me to borrow because mine were being washed. I just got them back," she thrust a bundle up to his eye level until he looked at it. "I've gotta get out of here, Gendry. I'll send Jon a message right now. We have to go find Sansa and staying here is doing nothing. All of the supplies are in my room. We can leave in the morning."

A slow smile spread as the fire bounced off his eyes. "Took you this long? I've been wanting to leave since the first night."

Relief flooded Arya's mind. She noticed that he concentrated on not lowering his eyes. "I'll go change and get a message sent."

"Good idea. I'll pack up here." Arya lingered just long enough to watch as he lined up his tools in a neat row, like he had at Castle Black when they were together every day in silence. _I want that back. It was so much more simple. The silence._

After a brief note was penned and sent by rider to Jon, Arya changed into her riding gear and left the offending dress on the desk. She didn't mind sleeping in her clothes and it would help before the riding started. A new set of saddlebags had been purchased and filled with food and sundries for the journey. Arya slowly and methodically honed Needle until she heard Gendry's heavy footsteps outside of her door. "You can come in," she called.

He poked his head in first and saw that Arya was back in her riding clothes. "You're ready to go now," he laughed as he glanced at the saddlebags.

"You have a new hat and gloves on your bed. Winter has come and it will not be kind to us on the road." All of the sudden, Arya felt like a bumbling idiot and busied herself by putting Needle away.

"Thanks." A pregnant silence filled the room. Gendry shuffled his feet and left. _Well, I am just Arya and he is just Gendry. And we will find my sister together._

The dawn's breaking light revealed that Gendry had just saddled the horses in the biting cold air as Arya adjusted to the painful air flooding her lungs. He smiled from beneath the fur hat that she had put on his bed the night before. She tied down her saddlebags and swung up into the saddle as he held onto the reins from the ground. _Nice gloves._ After he seated himself on his horse, they started south on the Kingsroad as the first ray breached the top of the distant Wall. Arya smiled under the tall neck of her cloak as he rode next to her. _The bull and the wolf._ She lifted up her lips just beyond the neck and smiled at Gendry. "Let's go find my sister, stupid."

Biting winds and a light snow made Arya miserable as they rode. Even with her layers of clothing, the cold seeped into her bones and made her ache. What should have been a relatively easy ride towards Queenscrown felt as brutal as a bar fight. There had been a solitary rider that passed them near midday, hell bent in his gallop northward.

"We've got to stop before it gets too cold and we freeze!" Gendry looked worried. They were nowhere near Queenscrown or any house or shed or anything that would offer substantial shelter. Arya kept her eyes on the road and plowed on. When she became too cold and started to drift to sleep, she dismounted and walked on in the dark near Mouse. Gendry's plodding steps soon sounded next to her until they suddenly stopped in the pale moonlight. "I'm freezing and tired. I hope you know where in the hells you are going." She smiled under her cloak and focused on putting one step in front of the other.

Other than scooping snow into her mouth for water and the noisy footfall of two horses, a bull and herself, Arya was left to the silence of her mind again in the dark. She fell into a soundless cadence with her footsteps. _Sansa. Sansa. Coming. Sansa._ Her mind drifted between plots and plans for the future and bits of wondering how Sansa fared in the Vale. Arya knew that she had been married to the Imp and guessed that it hadn't been Sansa's ideal marriage. She chuckled at the thought of the small man having to get her to kneel for his cloak and Sansa regally holding her head up in refusal, if the stories she heard were correct. Joffrey dead at Sansa's hands, Arya hadn't expected. The flight to the Vale, either. The story became mostly here say and gossip at that point, with no real information other than speculation from third or fourth hand sources. _Are you locked in a tower, Sansa? Waiting for your true knight to rescue you?_ Arya gagged under her cloak in the dark at the thought. _There are no true knights, no true loves._ She hesitated at the thought and glanced over to the lumbering man beside her, who returned her glance. "You okay, stupid?"

"Just great, thanks." She felt bad for pushing him but knew that the cold would kill them in their sleep if they stopped. They just needed to make it through to the morning.

Their pace had slowed and Arya fought off thoughts of just laying down to rest when she glimpsed the first strain of dawn to their backs. "We've got to be close," she encouraged her exhausted bull. "Come on, stupid. Let's get some hot food in our stomachs and pass out." Queenscrown appeared around a bend and they were delighted to find an inn aboveground. Arya was also happy to find that more than one room was available.

Belly filled with warm mush, Arya collapsed onto the bed that the inn keeper had shown her to after barring the door. As sleep swallowed her, she swore she heard Gendry's low voice from the room next door.

"My featherbed is deep and soft, and there I'll lay you down, I'll dress you all in yellow silk, and on your head a crown. I'll wear a gown of golden leaves, and bind my hair with grass. But, you can be my forest love and me your forest lass."


	20. Chapter 20

Had there been more to talk about, they would have talked. Arya focused on finding Sansa and making it through each glacial night. They stayed in villages when they could, abandoned houses when villages were scarce, and pitched a small tent for themselves after covering their horses when no other broken or burned out shelter was available. Those were the most miserable nights for Arya. Her mind waged a war of the past and what could have been had different choices been made versus the man curled up beside her for warmth and where they were going. She found that each day, she strained to remain civil to Gendry as they traveled on the Kingsroad, and ultimately towards Winterfell.

"I won't go to Winterfell," she announced one morning as they supped on dried meat, hard cheese and even harder bread. They were running low on supplies but she knew they were close to Winterfell by the trees. Even after the war, the burns and scars that the land had retained, she knew her home.

"I'll go and get what we need." His simple answer were the first words he had spoken in three days. Lost in his own musings, they both were content with their self-imposed silence.

After she gave him a stack of coins, Arya added instructions. "Stay out of the castle. Just go to the winter town where the merchants are." Her mouth clapped shut. _Is the Godswood still standing? The crypts left alone? The Glass Garden being tended to? Did anyone bring Father back home? _She bit her bottom lip and lowered her gaze to the ground as she furiously blinked back the tears. Arya cleared her throat and continued, "I'll head to the east of Kingsroad and search for a house that used to be there for shelter. I'll look for you later, just come back here." She pulled Mouse's head eastward and was halted by Gendry's gloved hand pulling her reins to a stop.

A few deep breaths later, she gritted her teeth and looked up at those ridiculously blue eyes and searched his face. His beard had filled in and was getting long. But the depth of his eyes, the look that told her that he was unhappy that she couldn't go to see her home made her retained tears spill over. "Damn it, Gendry," she whispered miserably.

"You'll get there. Not today, but you'll be back in Winterfell. Go find that house. I'll meet you here in three hours." He nodded his head for emphasis before releasing the reins and trotting towards Winterfell. Arya watched until he disappeared behind a bend in the road, barely visible through the falling snow before she kicked Mouse into a trot.

Arya found the tiny, one-roomed house behind a stand of trees and her heart dropped. She had seen plenty of burned houses and stables, plenty of frozen and charred bodies, but none were a childhood memory. Old Nanio lived here with his nephew Ralif, who was around the same age as her father. Ralif had sold apples from his trees in the merchant stalls in the winter town each winter, along with the bundles of wood that Nanio would gather together. Ralif treated Arya to an apple when she insisted on helping carry home a bag of food Ralif had bought. After that, Arya slipped out to his stall often and had visited the home several times. Nanio was as wrinkled as an apple left in the sun, with a shock of white hair that only was uncovered on the warmest summer days. Usually, a funny red hat was perched on Nanio's head and he was faster than Arya had ever imagined, being dependent on a smooth, straight, wooden cane. "Hi-ho, little not-so-lady Stark," he would call out when he saw her. He had heard once that she did not want to be a lady and teased her thus.

The approach to the house was slow and almost painful. The roof was charred and a small corner was caved in under the weight of the snow. The apple trees mostly broken or cut down and the few that remained were bare against the snow. A corner garden was concealed with the exception of a couple of leaning posts. The wooden door was shut and Arya partially expected Nanio to swing it open with a, "Hi-ho," but it remained shut. She circled the house and the tiny stable was still up, although it was more of a lean-to at this point. After she tethered Mouse to the lean-to, she withdrew Needle and pushed through the knee high snow to the front door. She could smell the singed contents of the house before she pushed her weight against the door.

Ralif had died near the fireplace in the insignificant home. There was no sign of Nanio, but his hat was perched on the mantle above Ralif's petrified body. "Valar Morghulis," Arya whispered to his corpse. Only one half of the room had been burnt, the side farthest from Ralif where the beds had been. The two windows had been broken out and snow had made small drifts inside.

Arya knew she had to remove Ralif to start clean-up but knew that his body would fall apart if she moved it, so she gingerly wrapped him in a piece of blanket that that survived the years. After placing his body out in the easterly woods, she couldn't bring herself to speak to him. _I wish I had the time to bury you, my friend. I wish I didn't have to leave you out here to the wolves. You deserve better._ She returned and closed the shutters on the windows before scooping out the snow. The roof couldn't be repaired for a simple stay, but Arya wished she could stay and fix it all. Countless times, she found herself stopped, staring at the funny red hat on the mantle. _Old Nanio, I hope you didn't live to see all this._

A small smoke fire was started in the fireplace after Arya had placed the tent canvas in front of the opening, to drive out whatever creatures had occupied the flue. She found a stack of wood under a snow drift and banked the fire high after the chimney was clear. After her hands had warmed, she knew it was time to find Gendry.

They returned to a warmer room after bedding and feeding their mounts. It wasn't warm enough to shed their cloaks, but the air wasn't painful to breathe. Arya cooked a small stew in the pot that they carried with them and it felt strangely familiar to her to be huddled in front of a fire, eating stew, as if they were five years younger and running from Kings Landing instead of towards it. "If Hot Pie were here, we'd have biscuits," she blurted out.

"And good stew." He slurped his spoonful.

"Well, I'd rather be useful with my sword." She slurped back just as noisily as he had. "It's edible."

"Barely." She didn't even have to look up to hear the smile in his voice. "You knew him?" Arya looked over to see Gendry nodding his head at Nanio's hat. She told him about the apple vendor and his uncle, how she had found Ralif and how she took his body to the forest. She left off the part about wondering where Nanio was or regretting that she couldn't properly bury Ralif.

Just as she finished her tale, a strong wind came through the hole in the roof and rattled the shutters. Arya noticed that the sky was dark and started unrolling her bedroll while Gendry barred the door with a piece of apple tree that he had lugged in earlier. It was nice to have a dry dirt floor near a fireplace to sleep near. She knew that this probably would never happen again; a quiet house with good shelter and a fire that wasn't an inn. And as nice of a luxury as an inn was, Arya detested them because where there were inns, there were whores. The thought of that made her eyes drift to her companion, who was unrolling his bedding next to her own. _I'm not jealous. I'm protective. He's my family._

Gendry shed his cloak and cast it over his prone body when he had settled. He wiggled incessantly until he found a comfortable spot. Arya just stared and raised her eyebrows, mockingly. "The ground is hard." That caused a quick and rare burst of laughter from Arya, who rolled onto her back to stare at the thatch roof. She wasn't surprised when he scooted closer to her, until their shoulders touched. She knew that by the morning, they would be curled into each other, just like they were every morning.

Their heads were the closest part of their bodies to the fire, so the firelight afforded a good view of each to the other. Arya felt his stare and kept her eyes glued to the ceiling. "So," he started in a long, drawn out breath that made her turn her head to him. She was surprised to see that he, too, was entranced by the thatch. "I've been trying to think of a way to tell you this because it's important and I really don't want you to overreact. And kill me." He pursed his lips together and flinched at the end of his sentence.

Arya propped herself up on one elbow. "In good faith, I'll throw Needle just over there." She gave the little sword a toss in its scabbard and it landed near the door. _This ought to be a good one. He's petrified!_

"Arya," he started and then sat up and scratched his head quickly. He flexed his hands and swung his full body to face her. Her face became more wary with each second he delayed. And suddenly, he wrapped her into a tight hug. "Arya," he whispered into her hair, "your sister is alive."

She couldn't help but squeeze him back. Alive! Sansa was alive. _Wait, I already know that._

A continued embrace brought the rest of the story to her ears. "I wanted to tell you earlier. But I was told to wait until the gates of the castle were closed for the night." She started squirming in his arms to free herself, but he was much stronger and flexed his arms tighter. "Stop. Just promise me that you will hear me out and not kill me when I tell you my news. I've barely been able to keep it to myself all day."

He relaxed his embrace but moved his strong hands to hold her elbows. Arya gritted her teeth. _What have they done to her?_

"Please don't hit me either." She nodded slowly. "Sansa is in Winterfell, just arrived."


End file.
